


A Little Merchant Prince

by AnonEhouse



Category: A Little Princess - Frances Hodgson Burnett, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boarding School, Crossover, Gen, Kid Tony Stark, Light Angst, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Young Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-14 13:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 22,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10537848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: Tony is sent to boarding school when he's seven, under another name. Howard just wanted to keep him safe.But there was no one to keep Howard safe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This AU/Crossover also includes varied elements from Marvel Comics. Any characters I know reasonably well may wind up taking part if I think they fit a needed role, but I haven't tagged any that either have tiny roles, or aren't much like canon. For example: Itty bitty Peter Parker is adorable but I think it would be misleading to tag him as a character because he's not Spidey, and he's a little boy. And Natasha... well, she's not even human, but she's still Russian!

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

 

Tony kneeled up on the car seat so he could look out the window at the huge brick building the car was approaching down a broad graveled driveway. The building was full of windows like blunt teeth, and surrounded by ruthlessly cropped grass, nothing like Stark mansion with its flowerbeds and fancifully cut hedges and beautiful draperies. He doubted there was a menagerie. There certainly was nothing to appeal to a flamingo. Tony would miss Bernard and the other animals. 

"This is it?" Tony asked, hoping to be corrected.

"Yes," his father replied. "You'll do fine." He brushed his mustache with his fingers the way he always did when he was upset. "Just remember, you're Tony Strong here."

Tony sighed. His father had made him promise not to tell anyone who he was. "I don't like it, but I suppose even Captain America didn't really _like_ hiding under a mask."

His father laughed. "You can ask him when we find him." He ruffled Tony's hair, which Tony didn't usually like, but he didn't get much time with his father so even a hair ruffling was nice. 

The car stopped at the end of the drive and Tony got out with his father. There was a big sign with blocky black letters on a white panel set to one side of a pair of big double doors.

**Vanhammer's  
Boarding School **

The building wasn't much friendlier inside. The walls were all painted a non-color that looked as though it might have wanted to be white, instead of covered in flowery wallpaper, and the carpets were a dull, tough brown. Tony could hear people talking, children's voices repeating a lesson, and then the sound of a heavy door shutting, and it was quiet except for the ticking of a large, plain clock high on the wall.

His father took his hand, which Tony appreciated, because he was a Stark, but he was a little Stark, and this was a very big house. A man with scrubby brown hair and eyes that Tony uncharitably thought looked rather weaselly, met them. "Mr. Strong, I'm so pleased you've decided to entrust your heir to our school! I'm Justin Vanhammer. My brother Ivan is currently teaching one of our advanced classes." He grabbed Tony's father's hand and shook it hard. Then he looked down at Tony. "Well, well, so this is the little man." He grabbed Tony's free hand. "I'd heard he was a genius, but no one told me how handsome he was! You'll have to beat the girls off with a stick later!"

Tony decided he was being unkind to weasels, but he was going to have to live here, so he didn't say anything. He listened as his father discussed all the extras Tony was supposed to have as a 'star boarder'. Tony didn't know what stars had to do with it, but he liked the idea that he should have supervised access to a workshop and a no-limit account for tools and supplies, and could test out of classes to accelerate his studies if he wanted. His father said they would have to make sure he ate regularly and took exercise in the fresh air. He was sending Tony's pony as an incentive. Mr. Vanhammer agreed to everything, and said they'd already turned an outbuilding into a small stable, and hired a man to look after Cornflake.

So, all in all, Tony kept telling himself that things wouldn't be too bad. His father brought in his luggage, and unpacked and put everything away in the suite of rooms assigned to Tony. The windows looked out on the back of the grounds, so Tony had a view of playing fields, laid out for different games, and a wooded parcel with paths further back that would be nice to explore with his pony when he wasn't studying.

His father hugged him and then he left. Tony locked the door of his room, and sat on the bed. "It will be all right," he told his favorite little robot dog. "It's not like it's forever." Tony didn't know exactly what was wrong, but there was something going on with the business, and his father needed to concentrate on it. Even when he tried to be quiet, Tony was a distraction, he knew that. So he would study and work hard, so when his father came to get him Tony could be a help, and not a distraction.

 

Justin and his brother Ivan made a big fuss about Tony, which was embarrassing, and made the other students resent him. It wasn't as if he chose to be smarter than them, and he couldn't very well pretend to be stupid just so they'd hate him less. That would be cowardly. A Stark is made of iron!

Still, he had his lessons, and his workshop, and when he really needed to get away and think by himself, he could take Cornflake and ride in the little paths for a while. 

 

Four years went by with the occasional phone call or letter from home. He didn't go home for the holidays because... there were reasons, he was sure. Sometimes his father hinted at business problems, and said it was better if Tony stayed at school.

 

Then one day soon after his eleventh birthday, Tony was called into the office. He didn't think he'd done anything in particular wrong recently, but he was wary. Justin was smarmy, and Tony wasn't afraid of him, but Ivan had a temper. He'd seen him clout boys around the ears more than once. He'd never touched Tony, but sometimes he _looked_ as if he wanted to.

"You sent for me, headmaster Vanhammer?" Tony said. Both the brothers were in the room, but Justin was in a corner, while Ivan was at the desk, so he looked at Ivan, who was in charge whenever he was present.

Ivan looked up from his computer. "Do you have any relatives beyond your parents?"

Tony blinked in puzzlement. "No, headmaster. My father..."

"Your father is dead." Ivan stood up suddenly, scraping his chair back with a loud noise.

"Dead?" Tony felt light headed. "What do you mean, sir?"

Ivan snorted. "I thought you were a genius. Dead." He put his hands down on his desk and leaned on them. "The man who brought your fees came today to tell me. He said there was a car crash." He tossed his head. "Now I have to decide what to do with you."

"What?" Tony still didn't understand. "My mother... Jarvis?"

"Your mother was in the car, too."

"But... Jarvis?" Tony couldn't see his whole world gone, he couldn't.

"Who? I don't know. I don't care. What I do care about is that there is no money. None. Apparently your father's business partner absconded with the funds, and the company is bankrupt. They're gutting it for assets now. Everything is on the auction block."

Tony blinked hard and fast. He would not cry. He was a Stark. He was... the last Stark. "Nothing? Not my mother's jewelry? My father's cars?"

"I'm told everything's been seized. I won't get back what I've spent on you this semester, but I can throw you out and not waste any more money on you!"

For the first time, Justin stirred. "Ivan. Ivan, we can't do that. Think how it would look!"

Ivan scowled. "I won't support the brat out of my own pocket!"

"He could earn his keep," Justin said. "You know, run errands, do odd jobs, tutor some of the younger ones."

Tony clenched his fists. "I'm not your servant. You don't have to throw me out! I'll go on my own!"

Ivan laughed. "You're eleven, and you owe me thousands of dollars. How are you going to repay me? Are you going to follow in your father's footsteps and run away from your debtors?"

"My father never ran away from anything!" Tony wanted to punch Ivan, but he could see that was just what the big man wanted.

"He took your mother and ran. Maybe he was drunk, and it was an accident. Maybe he just took the easy way out."

And then Tony really did punch Ivan.


	2. Chapter 2

Justin grabbed Tony from behind and threw him towards the door. "Run, you little idiot!" Justin told him. One glance over his shoulder at Ivan's face convinced Tony to flee. He was the last Stark, he couldn't get beat to death now. He had to redeem the family name. 

He ran and kept on running, ignoring shouts and boys looking at him. He had to get outside. He ran all the way to the little stable, just in time to see the stablehand's car pulling out. Cornflake's pony trailer was hitched to it, and Tony saw his fluffy white tail above the half gate of the trailer. The door of the stable was open. Tony walked in and numbly noted that it had been stripped bare of everything except the dirty straw on the floor. He had outgrown the pony years ago. He didn't need a stupid pony. He kicked at the straw and the dust made his eyes water. Starks don't cry, but dust would bother anyone.

 

When Tony returned to the school because he really didn't have anywhere else to go, Justin met him at the door. He looked guilty. "Your clothes have been moved to your new room."

Tony didn't have to ask what had happened to his new computer and anything else he had that could be sold. He kept his eyes locked with Justin's to keep him from noticing that Tony was wearing the Ball Engineer Hydrocarbon AeroGMT wristwatch his father had sent for his birthday, along with a promise that he'd teach Tony how to fly. Tony didn't care that it had cost four thousand dollars, but it was his father's last gift to him. He was suddenly fiercely glad that he didn't have any friends. Since he had no one to show the watch that meant there was no one who could spitefully tell on him for keeping it.

"Yes, sir," he replied steadily. "Where is it?"

Justin flinched. "In the basement. The school custodian cleared out a room for you." Justin waved one hand. "Um. Ivan said... you're not to wear the school tie, or... or badge... or jacket."

Tony nodded. "I'll change. Am I to report to you for work assignments?"

"Yes. Um. Starting tomorrow. I... I need time to decide what your duties will be."

More likely Justin needed time to ask Ivan. Tony nodded again. "May I go now, sir?" Justin was a weasel and a worm, and Tony despised him too much to hate him.

"Yes. Yes." Justin flapped his hand again. "And... Tony..."

"Yes, sir?" 

Justin sighed. "Just... go."

 

His new routine didn't leave Tony much time for study, but that was all right, because the school cook was careless about locking up, so Tony could get coffee at night, and the locks on the workshop were laughable. Broken electronic toys, and phones and even laptops were easy to come by when he was emptying bins, and the custodian didn't care how much junk Tony piled up in his corner. Some of them weren't even really broken, just full of viruses from all the free porn downloads the other boys couldn't resist, so Tony soon had plenty of computer power hodge-podged together into an ugly monster that could handle anything he asked of it. He named it 'Junkheap'.

Stanley Lieber, the custodian, was an old man, cynical but not unkind, and after Tony helped him piggyback a wifi connection for his own use, he was more than willing to turn a blind eye to Tony hacking into the school's subscriptions for educational forums and advanced university papers.

 

Ivan held a grudge and was always looking for an excuse to hit him. Tony figured it wasn't just the money, or the single punch Tony had given him. He was pretty sure Ivan hated that Tony was smarter than him. Sometimes Ivan managed to get in a lick or two, but Tony was fast, and he was smart, and also, even though Justin was a cowardly weasel, he wasn't a crazed one, like his brother, so sometimes he'd make a distraction, allowing Tony to slip away. 

Tony was doing fine. He wished he was taller, though. If he looked like an adult he could get a real job, and pay the Vanhammers back and then pay back all his father's creditors. He was sure he could get fake ID, but there was no way to fake being an adult when he was this short. 

He thought sometimes he should eat more so maybe he'd get taller, faster, but he wasn't allowed to eat with the students, and by the time he got through with his work, and his study, it was late. He scrounged leftovers in the kitchen, but if he ate a full meal before he went to sleep, he had nightmares, and he needed sleep more than a full stomach. Nothing tasted good, anyway. He just put extra sugar in his coffee, and bags of dried fruit in his pockets to eat while he was working. That was enough. Starks were iron, they didn't need to be babied.

Tony was doing fine.


	3. Chapter 3

One of the students paused on his way to morning class. Tony was in the middle of running the vacuum cleaner over the third floor dormitory carpet, and the student was standing in his way. Tony turned off the vacuum and looked up. Oh, it was Reed Richards. For a while they'd been competing for top student. Not that Tony had cared about the stupid 'honor' of having a photo put up on display to impress the parents. It wasn't as if his parents had ever visited. "There's a light out in my room," Reed said after a long moment of looking at Tony as if he was supposed to read his mind.

Tony nodded. He'd be damned if he was going to call Reed 'sir', but if Reed reported him for being 'familiar' Tony would be in trouble. Again.

He didn't think Reed would do it deliberately, but Tony was firmly convinced that despite Reed's scientific intelligence he was an idiot. He didn't even notice the crush Victor had on him. Tony would have liked to have pointed it out because it was embarrassing watching Victor trying to impress Reed, but it wasn't worth the risk of being caught 'acting above his station'. Where ever Ivan got those weird old-fashioned ideas, Tony didn't know. He liked to imagine the Vanhammers being raised in a gulag.

Reed frowned and looked like he was going to say something. He fiddled with his stupid long fingers at the sleeve of his stupid school jacket. Reed was stupidly tall, too. He would be able to pass for an adult long before Tony would. At thirteen Tony was only at the 70th percentile for height for a boy. He stretched every morning, but it didn't seem to make a difference. He was short and skinny, and neither situation seemed likely to change any time soon.

Tony stared at the controls of the vacuum, thinking about improving it. The noise was wasted energy, he was pretty sure he could make a silent vacuum with twice the suction power. He waited patiently for Reed to get a clue and leave while he mentally tried different methods on the vacuum. He'd take it apart tonight, and machine new pieces to experiment. If it worked, he'd add it to his list of things to patent.

He was concentrating so hard he didn't notice Reed leaving, but he did eventually notice a small hand tugging at his trousers. He looked down and couldn't help smiling. "Hi, Peter."

Peter Parker was the newest, and youngest, student. Tony thought he was also one of the smartest, but the boy was terminally shy, and got so flustered in group classes Tony had been assigned to privately tutor him. "Hi, Tony!" Peter chirped back at him. "I got stuck on fuwid dynamites."

Tony felt his grin widen. "Fluid dynamics is hard, but you can get it." He picked Peter up and set him on one of the tables lining the hall. "As soon as I finish this, we'll go over it until you have it, right?"

"Yeth!" Peter said cheerfully, kicking his stubby legs back and forth. "Unca Ben is coming on Saddaday. He'th taking me out for ith thream!"

"That's nice," Tony said. His throat didn't close up at the thought. If he wanted ice cream, he could always sneak some from the kitchen. And going out... the town was boring. He'd put together a usable bicycle from cast-offs, and slipped off to town a few times, but people stared suspiciously at him, as if he was going to steal, just because his clothes were shabby and didn't fit well. "Your uncle is a good man." He resumed vacuuming. He'd have to hurry. Adding getting the ladder to replace the ceiling bulb in Reed's room and an extra tutoring session to his work schedule was going to be tough. He was already falling behind on washing the windows. 

Peter kicked happily, and burbled about Uncle Ben, and Tony didn't think about anything except his work.

He didn't.


	4. Chapter 4

Much later, much, much later, and quite possibly over caffeinated, Tony was in the workshop with earbuds in and he was headbanging to Warrant's 'Cherry Pie' while using the press lathe to make new parts for his TurboVac. He was quite certain it was filthy even though the only remotely dirty word was 'bitchin' to rhyme with 'kitchen'. Ivan would have a stroke if he knew such depravity was being _enjoyed_ by Tony. Tony loved loud, rebellious music, and loud, rebellious music that Ivan would hate was the best of all.

He was totally in inventing mode solidly in the state where his body was just another tool for his mind. He was cool and controlled and beyond emotion or feeling. 

And then a hand gripped his shoulder.

"JESUS!" Tony leaped straight up and tried to turn around in mid-air, which didn't work out well at all. He wound up under the work bench, one flailing hand tangled in the earbud cord to yank them painfully loose. The press lathe turned off, motor whining down to silence. He shook his head and looked up.

Reed was looking down at him. The little frown wrinkle was back, slightly deeper than before. "Are you mad at me?" he asked after a lengthy pause.

"You nearly killed me just now! That doesn't exactly thrill me!" Tony rubbed his ear.

"You've been avoiding me." Reed actually had a little emotion in his voice. 

"What? What are you talking about?" Tony wondered sometimes if Reed had exposed himself to a hitherto unknown radiation that caused total cluelessness.

"We used to take a lot of the same classes. I liked studying with you. It was stimulating." Reed bit his lip, and then continued, "Now every time I see you, you're with the little kids, or you're, I don't know... exercising."

"Exercising."

"You know, bicycling, doing the gardening and... and stuff around the school."

Tony looked into Reed's big brown, innocent eyes. "You're not kidding. You don't know?"

"Know what, Tony?"

"My parents died two years ago. My father's partner ran off with all the money leaving me with the Vanhammers' bill and no way to pay it. I'm not a student, Reed. I work here." Tony waved his hand at his chest. "I'm not allowed to wear the school tie, or associate with the students. I tutor the kids. I live in the damn basement with the school custodian. For TWO YEARS. And you never noticed?" Tony's voice rose to a pitch that actually hurt his own ears.

Reed's eyebrows lowered. "But they can't make you stop studying, Tony. It would be a terrible waste. You're really too bright to be a custodian."

Tony rolled his eyes. "That's what you take away from this?"

Reed looked down and shuffled his feet. "I can't help it. I know I don't see things the way other people do." He glanced back at Tony. "What can I do to help?"

"Huh. You mean that?"

"Yes!" Reed smiled and nodded. "I like you, Tony."

Tony shook his head. "Ok, fine. I'll... think of something. But remember, I can't act friendly to you where anyone can see. Ivan would punish me. You should go back to bed, before you get caught out after curfew."

Reed nodded again. Then he stepped forward and held out his arms, awkwardly. "Do you want a hug?"

"Oh, God, Reed, you're something else. Fine, ok, one hug." 

Reed was bad at hugs, his arms were bony and so was his chest, but still, it was nice. Tony closed his eyes tight for a moment, and hugged back. Then he patted Reed on the back.

"Ok, good, we're fine. Go, shoo. Try to get outside by yourself, near the old stable, if you can. Bring a book, tell Ivan your father said you needed sunshine and fresh air, he'll buy that. If I can make time, I'll meet you there, and we can talk."

"Great! Thanks, Tony." Reed bumbled his way off, smiling happily.

Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I just know I'm going to regret this."


	5. Chapter 5

There was a small explosion in the chemistry lab right around lunch time. "STRONG!" Ivan bellowed, and came at Tony, face already purpling with rage. Tony had nothing to do with the explosion, but that didn't matter. It was a good excuse for Ivan to try to belt him. Tony dropped his sponge into the bucket and left the window half washed to make a run for the outside. Stanley had been 'supervising' but now he helpfully kicked over the bucket and began mopping with wild sweeps, and plenty of elbow action.

"Sorry, sir, sorry," Stanley mumbled.

Tony didn't look back, but he heard splashing and Ivan cursing as evidence of the effectiveness of Stanley's actions. Stanley got away with stuff like that by playing senile and whining about his brittle bones.

If Tony stayed away long enough Ivan's temper would have cooled, until the next time, so Tony decided he might as well head for the stable even though Reed was probably in the dining hall. He didn't use the stable as a hideout very often, so it should be safe enough to wait there a few hours.

He stepped into the stable and before he could adjust to the dimmer lighting, a bear knocked him flat on his back, snarling and snapping at his face. Tony was man enough to admit he screamed like a little girl.

"No, NO, Tasha! No!"

The weight lifted off his chest, and Tony scuttled backwards until he ran up against a wall, and couldn't go any further.

"SoRRy, MistER."

Tony blinked. The 'bear' turned out to be a huge, shaggy, long nosed, red and white dog being held by the scruff by a boy about Tony's age. The boy was dirty faced, and wearing purple. Purple with rips and tears, and dangling strings of sequins. The dog wore a flashy gold leather collar wider than Tony's hand.

"TaSHA was just SCARED."

The boy had even less vocal control than Reed. Tony sat up warily, and rubbed the back of his head. "That makes two of us," he said. "Not to be nosy, but what are you doing here?"

"Hiding." The boy made a hand gesture and the dog sighed, before sitting down, but it kept a wary eye on Tony. "Tasha bit the RINGmaSTER, and they were going to KILL HER."

"Well, if dogs go around biting people..." Tony looked closer at the boy. His clothes weren't just worn. There was blood on the edges of the tears. Blood in stripes. "He WHIPPED YOU?" 

The boy tilted his head in acknowledgement. "I MISSED a SHOT. Messed up the act. It was MY FAULT, but Tasha doesn't understand that."

"Jesus, I don't understand it, either." Tony rubbed his forehead with both hands now. "Even Ivan wouldn't _whip_ a kid."

"WHAT? I didn't SEE what you SAID."

Tony dropped his hands to his lap. "See? Oh! You can't hear." He nodded. That explained the boy's voice, if he couldn't hear himself, and got upset, he might not realize he was shouting. "You read lips?"

"Yes. And Tasha tells me when I need to look sharp. She led me here last night." 

Tony nodded. "Good dog. Look, I don't mind you guys staying here, but the people who run the school would."

"WHERE can we go?" 

Tony scratched his head. "I don't know. I'll ask around. Can you and Tasha do anything? I mean, what kind of work can you do?"

"I..." The boy looked down. "I didn't get much schooling, so I can't work if I have to read and spell. But I'm STRONG!" He looked up at Tony. "And I'm not scared of anything. I clean the big cat's cages, and walk the high wire, a little, and I can hit any target with an arrow or a gun or a knife." He scowled. "Don't have my bow, though."

Tony blinked. "Yesss. And the dog?"

"Tasha's smart. She can herd camels!"

"Camels." Tony scratched his nose. "Ok, stay out of sight, keep the dog quiet. I have a friend coming and he scares easy," Tony lied. Reed was about as timid as a rock. "I'll... think of something. Oh, hey, my name is Tony. What's yours?"

"Clint! I'm Clint." The kid grinned suddenly. "PLEASED TO MEET YOU. Tasha, give the paw."

"No, no, that's all right," Tony said. The dog lifted its lip and sneered at him. "We're great friends already. I can tell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tasha is a Borzoi- a Russian Wolfhound. ;^)


	6. Chapter 6

Clint didn't want to talk much at first, but Tony had a lot of built-up verbiage pressure and could fill the gap. Stanley wasn't much for conversation and Tony could only do so much talking to himself without wondering if all his screws were tight enough.

So Tony sat on pile of moldy straw and talked. "I'm stuck here because I owe Ivan, but I'm not gonna be stuck here forever. 'I'm a young man, I have prospects!' " Tony looked at Clint, who continued petting the dog and looking bemused. "Oh, ok, so you're not one of the few people who watched Ladyhawke on hulu. In my defense, I was bored, it was late and I wanted to mock the music. Also: Rutger Hauer and Michelle Pfeiffer. I never say no to eye candy. You like animals, I bet you'd like the hawk."

"They call me Hawkeye," Clint offered, hesitantly.

"Cool! But what's with all the purple? I mean, it looks great on you, brings out your bruises and all that. But purple? Isn't that a bit of a My Little Pony color?"

Clint's eyes went expressionless, and scary. "Purple is half arterial red and half venous blue. It's killer camo."

Tony shuddered. Then he peered closer at Clint. "You're joking! That was totally a joke. Also, you know, that doesn't make sense, but good try, excellent start!" Tony thoughtlessly patted Clint on the arm. Luckily the dog seemed to have decided he was annoying but harmless and did nothing more than glare at him.

Encouraged, Tony waved at Clint. "Can you hear a little bit? Did you ever try hearing aids? Do you even want to? I mean, not that I'm trying to say you _should_ because maybe it's not for you."

Clint blinked. "Slow down, Tony."

Tony huffed. "Do you want me to make you a hearing aid? Would it help?" Tony cupped one hand around his ear. "I mean, I could learn sign, if you know that, but I can't make the world sign."

Clint blinked again, slower. "I don't know. I can hear some. It's just all... blurry even when it's loud enough. Are you a doctor?"

"No. But I could be!" Tony scrunched up his nose and sighed. "Yeah, no, you're right. You need a real doctor. I can't learn everything over the internet. I might mess you up." He patted Clint's arm again. 

"That's all right," Clint said. "I get by. I'm good."

"Don't say that when Reed gets here. He'll probably want to give you a hug."

Clint looked horrified.

"Yeah, I know. Feelings." Tony shook his head.


	7. Chapter 7

Clint was actually a pretty good listener, as contradictory as that would seem. He didn't get annoyed at Tony's ramblings. Possibly this was because he missed a lot of it. After a few minutes, Tony remembered he had a bag of dried fruit in his pocket, and held it out. "Papaya? It's a bit warm and squashed, but, eh, papaya?"

Clint accepted the bag. "Thanks." 

The speed at which he ate reminded Tony that Clint and his dog were going to need to be regularly supplied until they could find him a job. And he'd need clothes that didn't scream 'runaway, turn me over to the cops'. The last thing Tony wanted was for Clint to bolt to hide in a city, and probably wind up a victim again. If it was remotely safe for a kid to live on his own in the city, Tony would have run long ago.

Tasha growled, and bristled, nudging at Clint's arm. Before Tony could get up, Clint was on his feet, knife in one hand and the other clenched in Tasha's ruff.

Reed walked straight into the stable and nearly tripped over Tony. Tasha jerked away from Clint and had Reed flat on his back. Tony was a little disappointed that Reed merely grunted an oof. "Tony?" Reed asked. "Why is there a dog on me?"

"Tasha's a circus dog and this is her best trick," Tony said cheerfully, standing up as Clint pulled Tasha off Reed. "This is my friend, Reed. Clint, this is Reed."

"Sorry," Clint said. 

Reed sat up and dusted off the knees of his trousers. "Circus dog? I brought a book on thermodynamics. I don't have any books on dogs. Or circuses."

Clint looked at Tony and made a little finger twirl gesture near his ear. Tony nodded. "Yeah. That's... that's Reed. Ok, Reed, here's the deal. Clint and his dog are on the run for a crime they didn't commit." Reed nodded. "Clint's hard of hearing, so you gotta make sure he can see your face when you talk to him. He needs food, clothes, and a place to hide until he can get a job. If we keep coming to the stable, someone's going to find them, so first thing we ...."

"SO! This is..." the new voice was interrupted by Tasha knocking its owner down. She seemed to enjoy it, going by the tail-wagging. 

"Victor!" Reed said, getting up at last. "What are you doing here?"

Tony sighed. Once more, Reed had missed his stop for the clue-bus. Clint signaled Tasha to let Victor up. Victor immediately went over to Reed and stared lovingly at him. "You skipped class and you never do that. You had been talking to Strong. The boy, Peter, told me. Strong is trouble. I wanted to warn you." 

Reed blinked. "Warn me about Tony?"

"You cannot let... rumors... start. Your reputation is important!"

Reed blinked again.

Clint looked as if he was about to panic. Tony put his hand on Clint's shoulder and squeezed. "It will be all right." Then Tony sighed and decided he would have to be the clue-steamroller. "Victor, I am not seducing Reed to the Dark Side. Reed, Victor likes you. He really, really likes you. Ok, we're good? Can we skip past the mushy bits and get to the real problem?"

Reed's eyes went wide with sudden understanding. Tony could almost see the little light bulb above his head. "You really like me, Victor? You should have said! We could be science lab partners! You're extremely intelligent. I have noticed that."

Ok, maybe a clue-steamroller wasn't enough. But Victor seemed pleased by even this small concession of Reed acknowledging his existence, so Tony would let it go. It only took a few minutes to get Victor up to speed. He immediately picked up on the implications and risks.

"Why would you do this?" Victor asked Tony. "You know that Ivan will be angry at you if he finds out."

"Yeah, well, that's good enough reason for doing anything." Tony grinned sharply. "You gonna turn me in?"

"Of course not!" Victor was insulted. "It would be beneath my dignity. The von Dooms do not trample on peasants."

Tony resisted an eye-roll. Whether or not Victor was royalty, he certainly believed it. "Great. So, any ideas?"

"My parents wished me to have the 'full American experience', and sent me camping equipment." Victor sniffed. "I do not need to experience primitive discomforts, but it might be sufficient for Clint, as I am told that circus people are accustomed to living in tents."

Clint gave Victor an eye-roll. "Mostly we live in RVs. The tents are for shows. But yeah, I know how to put up a tent."

"Ok, great," Tony said, clapping his hands to break up the hostility he felt forming between Clint and Victor. "I can get food. Victor can get the camping gear. Reed, you have to have some outgrown clothes that would fit Clint."

Reed nodded. "But I don't have anything purple."

"I don't even LIKE PURPLE," Clint said. "JUST clothes. Something that will let me fit in."

Tony thought he'd better add, "Nothing with the school colors or badges, right?"

"Right." Reed looked pleased. "This is like an adventure, Tony?"

"Yes, exactly." Tony patted Reed on the shoulder. "Your first rebellion against the man. So, we're all decided? I'll stay here with Clint until you bring back the stuff, and then I can show him a place to set up camp in the wooded parcel. I used to know it pretty good and found some hidden spots."

Clint said, "But what about a job? I can't stay here for long. Sooner or later you'll get caught bringing me supplies. I don't want to get all of you in trouble."

Unexpectedly, Reed spoke up. "The estate next to ours has been sold. They may need someone to work on the grounds. I've heard there is a menagerie."

Tony was astonished. "How do you know that?"

Reed shrugged. "People tend to ignore me and talk as if I'm not there. Ivan and Justin were complaining about it. They think it brings down the tone of the area."

"You're brilliant, Reed. I could kiss you," Tony said. Victor growled. "Figuratively speaking, that is, Reed. No kisses. None."

Reed grinned and lunged forward to wrap his arms around Tony. "BRO-HUG! That's right, yes?"

Tony eeped and waved at Victor 'not my fault'. "Absolutely! Go hug Clint! Clint needs a hug!"

"YES!" Reed turned to Clint, who looked like a trapped animal for a minute, but gave into it with good grace.

Tony smirked. "Hey, Reed, you forgot Victor! Victor deserves equal time."

"I..." Victor said, but his protest was feeble, and he smiled goofily when Reed enveloped him in his spidery arms.

Tony felt like he'd just formed a super secret club. He wondered if he should devise a secret handshake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the distraction over Clint, Reed forgot he was supposed to be helping Tony! Tony forgot, too, because he really hadn't any idea what Reed could do for him.


	8. Chapter 8

"Pretty sure the kitchen doesn't have dog food," Tony said after Reed and Victor left. "So what else can Tasha eat?" Tony had a vague recollection that dogs couldn't eat chocolate, which seemed a shame. Probably there were other things that would be bad for them. "I don't want to make her sick."

Clint scratched behind Tasha's ear, and her eyes half closed, and her leg thumped on the floor. "Meat. No bones. Maybe some bread. A little cheese. She likes raw carrots and plain boiled potatoes." Clint shrugged. "I don't know what else. We didn't get a lot of choice. For Tasha it was mostly leftover cat food. Lions and tigers. You know?"

"I'll check once I get back to my computer." Tony had a thought. "The wifi won't reach this far, but I could load up a laptop with stand alone games, so you wouldn't be bored."

"Um." Clint shuffled his feet. "Would I have to read to use it?"

"Oh. Yeah, that would help. I'll change the icons to show what something is, and then, you know, button smash to see what happens, don't worry, it won't break. And there must be reading programs." Tony couldn't remember a time when he didn't know how to read, so he had only a vague idea what the learning process involved. Part of it was sounding out things? "There must be on line reading programs for deaf kids," he added. "I could get the lessons, but without a teacher it would be hard."

Clint smiled. "The laptop gonna hit me upside the head if I make a mistake? That's hard. Making mistakes is easy. I'd like to try." 

Tony was going to have to put the Turbo-Vac on hold for a while. "I'll bring it tomorrow." Tony sat down on a clump of straw and yawned. He didn't usually _stop_ in the middle of the day and without activity he was getting sleepy. "Keep me awake, Clint."

Clint reached over and pinched Tony, hard, on the underside of his arm. 

"YIKES!" Tony pulled away from Clint. "I _meant_ TALK to me! Ow, what have you got, pinchers?"

Clint smirked. "You're just soft."

"I could take you!" Tony protested.

Clint pulled off his shirt and flexed his arms. "Wanna wrestle?"

Tony eyed Clint's biceps. "No, no, it wouldn't be fair, you're still healing."

"Uh huh." Clint grinned, but he didn't put the shirt back on. 

Tony didn't really mind. For a kid, Clint had a pretty nice body. Well, that would be a thought for another day.

To pass the time, Tony taught Clint the Lizard, Spock rules for Rock, Paper, Scissors. Clint won often enough to make Tony decide he had an exceptionally logical mind, and would probably be able to pick up reading without too much difficulty. He hoped. Tony couldn't imagine life without being able to read.


	9. Chapter 9

Reed and Victor returned, hauling a ridiculously large package between them. Balanced on top was a bundle of clothes, including a plain white shirt, black trousers, and blue plaid boxers, still in their original shrink wrap. Tony hoped they were a Christmas gift from an elderly relative, because otherwise it was just too sad. Reed already showed too many indications of becoming an absent-minded professor. 

Clint had to keep his purple boots, though. Reed's would have looked like clown shoes on him and they were trying to avoid the circus look.

"That's a tent?" Tony asked while Clint was dressing.

"I'm told so," Victor replied. "I believe it also contains the rudiments."

Tony plucked a piece of paper from the top of the package. "Rudiments. Pop up tent, inflatable mattress, battery powered lantern, collapsable water bucket, sunscreen, mosquito repellent, _bear_ repellent..." Tony flipped the paper over and kept reading. "Repair kit for tent. Ditto for mattress. Pillows- two, eiderdown. Fry pan. Cookpot. Cutlery. Dining Service for one. Camp stove. Toothbrush. Dental floss..."

Clint looked disappointed. "No sticks for roasting marshmallows? Victor, you can't get the full American camping experience without roasting marshmallows over a campfire."

Victor scowled. "Is this true?" He asked Reed. Reed shrugged and looked at Tony.

Tony said, "Well, they do it in the movies." He looked at Clint. "Do they really have to be cooked? I mean, they're candy... made from...what's a mallow? And really do you want to eat something with 'marsh' in the name?"

"Wow, what do they teach you at this school?" Clint shook his head. "I bet you never made S'more's either." 

You could have heard a cricket chirp as Tony, Reed and Victor exchanged silent, confused, glances.

"Pitiful," Clint said. "Just pitiful."

 

Victor and Reed had to get back before they were missed, so Tony and Clint, with Tasha's attempted help, carried the camping equipment to a secluded area bounded on three sides by overgrown bushes, and on the fourth by a fallen tree. "I'd stay and help you set up," Tony said, "but ..."

"It would take longer with you helping," Clint said cheerfully.

Tony decided not to respond to that. Let Clint keep his pride. Also, Tony had no idea where to start. "I can't get the food until after the kitchen closes, but I will come back tonight with it."

"Don't get caught," Clint replied. "I'd rather wait until tomorrow if it looks risky."

"It's nothing new. The cook doesn't live in, so he leaves the moment he's done." 

"Ok, then." Clint stopped unpacking, and stood, arms hanging down awkwardly. "Thanks. I mean... do you want a hug?" 

Tony laughed. "I'm good. Really. See you later."


	10. Chapter 10

Tony sneaked in through the coal chute. One advantage of an old house was that the outmoded areas were useful for avoiding notice. One disadvantage was that coal residue lingered forever. Tony showered quickly- the basement only had cold water hookups so all his showers were quick- and changed. He picked up a bucket and cleaning supplies and headed upstairs. He really, really hated washing windows. One day he'd invent a window-washing robot and live in a house with huge, huge windows that he never had to clean.

Ivan should be teaching a class in the West Wing around this time, so Tony headed up the East Wing staircase. Halfway up, he heard Peter crying. "Pete, my man!" Tony ran up the remaining steps, bucket swinging wildly. "What's wrong?"

"He thais..." Peter snuffled and pointed at Loki, who was leaning against a wall and smirking meanly. Loki did that a lot, the smirking meanly. Not so much the wall leaning. He was the biggest kid at the school and looked down on the little kids, figuratively as well as literally. "HE THAID my Unca dothenth love me! Cuz I'm 'dopted, an' no one loves 'dopted kidth. He thaths Unca only took me in tho it would look good to the company!"

Tony gave Loki a dark look and then he knelt in front of Peter and put down his bucket so he could give Peter a hug. "Hey, that's not so. I've seen how your uncle looks at you, Peter. He thinks you're the best thing that ever happened to him." Tony fished out a not yet dirty cloth from his pocket and handed it to Peter. "Blow your nose."

"Yes, do as the servant says, you snot-nosed brat," Loki sneered.

Tony's back stiffened, but he didn't look at Loki. "When you grow up, you'll run the company." He tickled Peter until he giggled. "And _people_ will be coming to you, hat in hand, begging for a job."

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Loki's smug grin vanish. "What do you mean by that, Strong?"

It would be really stupid to antagonize Loki, but Tony was too angry at him for upsetting cheerful, harmless, little Peter to care at that moment. "You're so smart, why don't you figure it out, Laufeyson." Loki _called_ himself Odinson, like his brother Thor, who had recently been graduated. Tony had liked Thor- he hadn't been the smartest student, but he never bullied anyone. Tony'd found Loki's true name when he hacked the school records, and figured Loki'd been adopted as a companion for Thor. Tony suspected Loki knew judging by the resentful way he treated Thor and in particular how he picked on Peter. 

" _Peter's_ an heir, not a penniless orphan, like..." Tony was going to say 'me', but Loki cursed, something in Norwegian, and slapped Tony hard. The bucket fell over, slopping soapy water over Loki's expensive shoes. Loki screamed in rage and kicked the bucket, and then he turned and ran off.

"Wow," Tony said, blinking and trying not to react to the stinging pain in his cheek, because Peter was shocked and looking a hairsbreadth away from fresh hysterics. "That was dramatic, wasn't it, Peter?" Tony grinned.

Peter touched Tony's cheek. "Hurth?"

"Nah," Tony shook his head. "Tell you a secret." Tony leaned close to whisper in Peter's ear. "I'm made of iron."

Peter was impressed, but still trembling.

"Hey, hey, it's all right. Want a story?"

Peter nodded. "ROBOTHS!"

"Yeah, all right. Once upon a time there was a little robot. Everyone called him Dummy because he was new and clumsy, but he had a good heart and he worked hard." Tony had been expanding on the Dummy Universe for over a year- when all else failed, that story always caught Peter's attention and calmed him. Tony got to the part where Dummy saved the day by putting out a fire no one else had noticed because they were too big and looked too high up to see it. Peter sat on the floor, sucking his thumb, totally enthralled. Then he jerked his head up, eyes wide.

The moment's warning wasn't enough. Tony scrambled to his feet, saw Ivan, and was knocked back down by a fist to the face. Ivan hit a lot harder than Loki, and the pain was a white-hot burn. His left eye hurt so bad he couldn't open it, but out of his right, he saw Ivan draw his foot back to kick.

Peter screamed.

Ivan looked down, apparently only then noticing Peter. "My foot slipped," he said after a moment. "In the water." Then he looked down at Tony. "Clean this up." He turned and strode away.

Peter knelt next to Tony and gently touched his face. "Iron?"

Tony swallowed hard. "Yeah." The whole side of his face felt tight and hot. He knew from experience it would be swelling, but more than that, he felt dizzy and nauseated. "I... I'm just going to lie here for a moment. Don't worry."

"Get thumbody?" Peter asked.

"Um...Reed? But don't make a fuss, ok." Tony closed his eyes. He really should explain better, but he had to concentrate on not being sick. 

 

Some time later, probably not too long, but time is relative when you're in pain, Tony heard a familiar voice. "Tony? What happened?" 

Tony opened his one functional eye. Reed stood there, looking bemused.

"Loki is a little shit," Tony replied.

Reed's eyebrows tightened. "He's taller than me."

"Don't make me laugh, Reed. It hurts."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized- I think in every MCU appearance Tony winds up with a black eye! So I guess I shouldn't be surprised he got one in this fic. :^)


	11. Chapter 11

"Do you want to see the school nurse?" Reed asked after a moment. He held his hand down and wiggled his fingers. "Can you get up?"

Tony accepted his hand and found that standing up didn't make him dizzy so long as he didn't turn his head. "Thanks, and no to the nurse." Tony didn't want to tell Reed that if he did go Ivan would add more money to his debt. "I could use a little help on the stairs, though. I have to get a mop from the basement."

Reed wrapped an arm around Tony's waist. "I could mop." He gave Tony a tentative smile. "It's not rocket science, is it?"

"Wow, no. Ivan would murder me if he saw you doing my work." No doubt Ivan would be angry about Reed helping Tony at all, but with any luck he wouldn't return to check on Tony until after his interrupted class was over. "I'll be fine in a minute." Tony was embarrassed that he'd been stupid enough to be caught flat-footed. 

"If you say so." They went slowly. Reed said, "You were going to tell me how I could help you."

"What?" Tony was holding onto the railing and watching his feet.

"Before. I went to the stable, and we were going to talk about it, but there was that dog, and Clint. And then Victor."

"Huh. Yeah. Oh, I know. You're going to the Science Fair this year?"

"Yes. I always do," Reed replied.

"Well, maybe you could bring one of my inventions with you."

"I couldn't show someone else's work, Tony. That wouldn't be ethical."

Tony rolled his eyes, which turned out to actually hurt. "No, I don't mean to enter it in the competition. Fujikawa is one of the sponsors and they're an up and coming company with a good reputation for cutting edge tech. You could show it to them, and ask if they were interested in obtaining the rights to it, or funding development, or, you know, maybe a paid internship. Living expenses until it proves out?"

"Do they do that?" Reed asked.

"Hell if I know, but it's worth a chance."

Reed nodded. "I'll do it."

"Great." Now all Tony had to do was find the time and salvage materials to get one of his inventions not only working, but smooth and professional in appearance. Piece of cake, working with cast-offs. Hey, Spock did it with stone knives and bearskins back in the past.


	12. Chapter 12

Tony washed his millionth window using a cloth tied to the end of a broom to reach the top because he just wasn't up to hauling a ladder around today. He kept an eye on the reflections, so he wasn't startled when Justin came up behind him.

"What ARE you doing, Strong?"

Tony turned to face Justin. "Washing windows, Professor Vanhammer."

"What happened to your face!"

"Headmaster Vanhammer slipped in some spilled water, Professor." Tony didn't bother filling in the details, Justin could figure it out for himself. "Don't worry. He's fine."

Justin cleared his throat. "Yes. Well... you can take the rest of the day off. That looks... ugly."

Tony nodded. "Yes, Professor. Thank you." Tony wondered whether Justin was worried about his students' delicate sensibilities being offended, or if he just had a weak stomach. Of course, it could be both. Tony didn't care, he had a free day. "Will you tell Headmaster Vanhammer?"

Justin winced. "Yes, yes, I will. Just... run along now. Put some ice on that!"

"Yes, Professor!" Even better, an excuse to go to the kitchen before the end of his work day.

 

The cook just waved a hand when Tony told him he'd been given the day off and decided to have a picnic. He wouldn't cook anything for Tony, but he had no objection to Tony bagging up leftovers from lunch. He didn't even bother to watch as Tony filled up a bucket. The main entree had been Salisbury steak and there were enough fussy eaters to have left a lot. Put between slices of bread, with leftover lettuce and tomato salad on top they made good, if juicy, sandwiches. He wasn't sure about the gravy for Tasha- a quick google when he was in the basement selecting a laptop to give Clint said that onions were really bad for dogs and the gravy did smell a bit oniony. So when Bruce's back was turned, Tony added a block of raw minced meat from the refrigerator, along with a handful of carrots. 

 

The bucket got heavier with every step. By the time Tasha showed up, silently sneaking up behind him and grabbing the handle of the bucket in her mouth, he was relieved. Well, after he jumped into the air, heart racing, that is. "What are you, a spy dog?" he grumbled as he followed her to Clint's camp.

Tasha didn't answer, but Tony thought her tail-wag was smug.

"Clint?" Tony looked around the camp site, but didn't see him. The tent had large mesh windows so it was obvious he wasn't there, either. Tasha put down the bucket and tilted her head, staring at it and drooling. Tony hurried to dig out the packet of meat for her, before she decided to help herself. A pine cone landed on his shoulder. Tony brushed it off and looked around while Tasha ate. Watching those big white teeth demolish several pounds of meat was disturbing. Another pine cone bounced off his head.

"Hey, you squirrels, cut it out," Tony said. He looked up just in time to see Clint halfway up a tree tossing a pine cone at him. It hit on the bad side of his face. "Ow, shit!"

Clint jumped down from the tree, landing lightly in a crouch. "Sorry," he said. "I see better up high, but I didn't see that." He frowned. "Walk into a door?" His eyebrows raised, adding the emphasis to 'door'.

"Yeah, a door named Ivan." Tony smiled. "The joke's on him, though, because his brother is squeamish, and gave me the day off. So I can fix up your laptop to suit you, without having to guess."

Clint nodded. "You should put some arnica on that."

"Ar-what?"

"Makes bruises heal faster." Clint rummaged in his pockets and came up with a big aluminum tube, rolled up and half empty. "I don't have the right color coverup for your skin tone, though."

Tony didn't ask questions. "I'll try the arnica but I don't want to hide it. Maybe when it looks even worse tomorrow, Justin will give me another day off."

"Stand still." Clint applied the arnica carefully, keeping it away from Tony's eye and slicking the ointment on without adding any pressure. "Yeah, he got you a good one. Tomorrow you'll be a half panda."


	13. Chapter 13

Tony couldn't remember ever having such a good time as he did with Clint. They ate until they were full, then Tony tweaked the programming on the laptop and guided Clint through each of the programs he'd loaded on it. Like he had thought, Clint was a quick study.

"You have to keep me up to date on your progress, once you get a job and move out." Tony would miss Clint when that happened.

"I don't need much schooling," Clint replied. "Once I can read and write, that's good enough for me." He shrugged. "I was never going to amount to much."

"That's bullshit. Listen to me. I am a genius, and I know a smart guy when I see him." Tony patted Clint on the shoulder. He was beginning to enjoy being able to touch people. "You're starting from scratch, but you catch up fast. I bet in a couple years I could have you taking online classes at MIT. They're free!" he added to forestall the protest he could see coming. "You don't get a degree or credit, but you can learn, which is the important thing. If you _know_ that's what counts. No matter what anyone says, if you can learn, you're somebody."

"Do you take those classes?"

"Sure, I do OpenCourseWare. If I had the money I'd go for MITx classes and pay the $50 for verified certificates. If you can get it, paper opens doors, but skills you can demonstrate can do it, too."

"Yeah, I get that. I don't know that I want to be an engineer, and work in a building, though. I like target shooting, and being with animals and being outside. The circus... it is... it was...all I know."

"I get that. But it's a dead-end profession these days. PETA boycotts, you know?"

"Yeah." Clint frowned. "They were all upset over the elephants. Never stopped to ask how the people were treated."

"Elephants look better on a poster than you do, Clint."

Clint gave Tony a playful shove. "Says you. I look great on posters!"

"Wanted posters, maybe." Tony shoved back.

Tasha apparently decided this was a new game and pounced on both of them.

"Ow," Tony said, softly, but he didn't really mind. Tasha was warm and her fur was soft. It was nice.


	14. Chapter 14

Late that night, Tony sneaked back into the school via the kitchen. The door had been a casualty of the cook's temper one day when a delivery of chicken turned out to be spoiled and he tried to make a box of frozen chicken fly. Bruce never took out his temper on people, but he was hard on furniture sometimes. Stanley had patched the door without telling the Vanhammers about the incident, but ever since the lock would pop open if you kicked the door in just the right place. 

He considered getting a bag of ice, but decided it would be worth the additional pain to keep his face looking as gross as possible the next time Justin saw him. Even if he didn't get a free day out of it he liked reminding Justin what his brother had done. It was too late to work on TurboVac or any of his other ideas, and he was really tired, so he just took off his shoes and padded barefoot down to his basement nook to sleep.

 

"Tony. Hey, kid. You're late. Time to get up and get goin'."

"Nooo, Stanley," Tony pulled the sheet over his head. "I'm calling in dead, today." He now regretted not having iced his face. Whatever it looked like, it felt worse. It didn't even seem like fun to make Justin sick at the sight of him. Tony could hear the rasp of Stanley scratching at his mustache as he probably thought things over. Stanley liked to take his time.

"Ok, I'll just go tell Petey he's right."

"What?" Tony peeped out over the sheet.

Stanley whistled. "Oh, that's a beauty. As pretty a mouse as I ever did see. And you know, I see plenty down here."

"Hah, hah." Tony sat up. "What about Peter?"

"When you didn't show up for his tutoring session, he started crying. He said you died and went to heaven with his mom and pop."

"Crap." Tony got out of bed and grabbed up the nearest clothes and started getting dressed at full speed. "I _told_ him I was all right."

"What were you doing at the time?"

"Lying on the floor, trying not to barf," Tony admitted.

"I think Justin's about to start crying himself."

Tony stopped getting dressed. "What's Ivan doing?"

"Nothing. He's in class, but Justin's about ready to snap and send someone for him."

"Crap, crap, crap." Tony didn't bother with combing his hair or putting on his shoes. He tore out of the basement, taking the stairs three at a time.


	15. Chapter 15

Tony followed the sound of Peter crying. In the small room Tony used to tutor the little ones, Justin was standing over Peter, flapping his hands and looking useless as Peter flailed on the floor and alternated crying and screaming. Nothing new there.

Justin looked up. "Where have you... oh. Yes." He turned back to Peter. "Look, Strong is here. He's fine. You can stop crying."

Peter looked up at Tony and burst into renewed tears. Tony winced. He knew he looked bad. "Tha's not Tony! Tha's a ZOMBIE! He wan's eat my braiiiiinz."

"There are no such things as zombies!" Justin said. "Stop, stop crying! Oh, my GOD. Someone make him stop crying."

"Leebman thayth they are tho real!"

Tony felt a little guilty about having left Lieberman's thesis on cognitive neuroscience open where Peter could see it. He could argue that Lieberman's 'zombies' were just a way of talking about subconscious brain functions, but that would just confuse Peter further.

Tony sighed. "Peter, do you know why zombies eat brains?" 

Peter scrunched up his eyes and rubbed at them. "No?"

"It's because they're stupid, and they think eating brains will make them smarter. They can't talk like I'm doing."

Peter looked doubtful, but at least he had stopped crying for the moment. "Maybe you're a thwmart zombie?"

"Even smart zombies are pretty stupid. We could play chess. A zombie can't do that." Tony made a 'go away' gesture behind his back, and heard Justin leave the room. 

"You juth wanna get clothe to me so you can eat my brainth!" Peter scooted back on his butt.

Tony was getting desperate. If Ivan showed up, things would rapidly go downhill. "Zombies don't have fun! They don't do silly things."

Peter nodded after a moment. "Zombieth don't blow bubbleth?"

"Exactly!" Tony was relieved to have Peter come up with something he could do.

"I don' have any more bubble thuff. I dropped it and it thpilled all on the ground." Peter looked ready to cry again, thinking of this latest tragedy.

"I'll make some!" Dealing with the little ones, Tony had researched various things to amuse them and bubble blowing soap was easy. He could get most of what he needed in the kitchen, but for really convincing bubbles he needed glycerin. "I'm going to the chem lab to get the glycerin."

Peter stood up. "Really?" 

"Yes, really."

"Ok!" Peter ran to Tony and put his arms around Tony's knees. "Zombieth can't thay glytherin!"

Tony had no idea why Peter had decided that, but he wasn't going to argue. "Absolutely right!" Tony grinned. "You didn't really think I was a zombie, did you?"

Peter tilted his head. "Maybe a haff zombie?" He pointed to Tony's left eye.

Tony laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.babysavers.com/how-to-make-bubbles/
> 
> http://www.scn.ucla.edu/pdf/lieberman-zombies(2009).pdf


	16. Chapter 16

Tony peered into the chem lab from the open door. The teacher was one of the hired ones, and he had his back to the class as he wrote on the white board. Victor and Reed were sharing a table near the door. "Stay here," he whispered to Peter, who nodded.

Tony was familiar with the chem labs from working in them at night and he knew where everything was, including the volatile chemicals that were kept under lock and key. Before his father died, Ivan had encouraged his attempts to make new and more impressive explosives. Tony had since come up with even better ideas, but contented himself with micro-experiments so the amounts he used would never be missed. He glanced at the labels of the empty vials lined up next to the beaker bubbling merrily away in front of Victor, who was paying no attention to it, caught up in admiring Reed's profile, apparently.

Tony's eye roll, avoiding that embarrassing scene, went to Reed's hand. Which was holding entirely the wrong thing and aiming it at the beaker. Without thinking, Tony ran into the room and grabbed Reed's wrist.

"What?" Reed said, mildly.

"I thought you liked Victor! You were going to blow his face off!" Tony pried the vial out of Reed's hand and pointed to the label.

"OH!" Reed's eyes went huge. He ignored Tony and turned to Victor. "Victor! I would never hurt you!" He flung his arms around Victor, who immediately responded with an octopus grip of his own. "Can you ever forgive me!"

"Come with me this weekend! We can go... bowling!" Victor said.

Tony was surrounded by hopeless dorks. The teacher finally turned, because Victor didn't have an 'indoor voice', and since Victor was gripping Reed's ass with both hands the whole class was pointing and making jokes, glad of an interruption in their boring day.

"What is going on here!" The teacher rapped at the desk with his pointer, which broke with a loud crack. That just removed the last bit of class decorum, and while everyone was hooting and milling around to congratulate Victor (worst kept secret in the whole school) Tony grabbed a vial of glycerin, darted out of the room, picked up Peter and ran.

Peter giggled against his shoulder. "AGAIN!" he shouted after Tony leaped onto the polished bannister and slid them down to the next floor.


	17. Chapter 17

After the bubble-blowing, Tony got Peter to wash his face, and they were totally immersed in tutoring by the time Ivan came by to check up on them. Ivan grunted something, and left. 

The rest of the day went as usual. The cook was in a hurry to go meet his girlfriend, so Bruce left early and Tony took advantage of the opportunity to raid the kitchen and go to Clint's campsite while it was still daylight.

 

"I got the job!" Clint greeted Tony once Tasha let him get up. Tony was pretty sure Tasha was now knocking him down just for fun. Clint hauled her off, and brushed Tony down. "The boss hired me, but he had to leave on business. He didn't ask a lot of questions once I showed him I knew my way around the animals. There's just this one other guy there and he couldn't do it all on his own. He's sick or something, he stayed all day long wrapped up in sweaters. Says he was cold." Clint shrugged. "It's not cold. They keep the place really warm."

"He got something you can catch?"

"No, no I think he's..." Clint shrugged. "In the head. Not like in a mean way, he's a good guy. He tries to help when I'm taking care of the animals, but he doesn't really know anything about them. He was a city kid, he said."

"So, you talk to him a lot?" Tony wasn't jealous, he wasn't. He was glad that it sounded like the job would work out.

"Yeah, sometimes. There's a lot of work." Clint picked up a sandwich, opened it to examine it, removed a slice of pickle, and took a bite. "There's birds mostly, but he's got a a few animals, including a camel! Tasha was happy to see the camel."

"Hey, maybe you could study to be a zookeeper. That's a job, right?"

Clint brightened. "Yes! I could do that."

"So... you'll be living there?" Tony was happy for Clint. Really he was. It was just that Clint understood better than anyone else.

Clint nodded. "But, you know... it's not that far. And Tasha knows you and she knows this place. If Victor doesn't mind leaving his tent here I could send her back every night, and you could put a message on her collar. I'm getting better at reading, but maybe don't write anything you wouldn't want someone else to read if I need to ask the boss or his friend to read it for me."

"That's a great idea! I'd like that." Tony picked up his own sandwich and sat next to Clint. They threw crusts for Tasha to catch, and Tony filled Clint in on the progress of the Reed/Victor romance. Clint nearly choked laughing when Tony said they were going bowling.


	18. Chapter 18

Things were fairly quiet for the next week, which gave Tony a chance to work on ideas for the Science Fair. He would have loved to make a miniaturized version of his father's arc reactor- he'd had a burst of inspiration one day and just KNEW it would work-, but there was no way he could get his hands on any palladium. The TurboVac would be a great consumer product and the underlying principles for eliminating the waste energy in noise output would be invaluable in future tech, but would the Fujikawa rep even look twice at it? Vacuum cleaners didn't look like ground breaking innovation, no matter how you improved them. And since Tony wouldn't be there to dazzle with his sparkling personality, the invention would have to speak for itself.

Reed would probably just walk up to the rep and say 'here, look at this. oh, you're not interested, ok.'. It needed to be so awesome even Reed couldn't make it seem boring.

Victor hadn't minded at all leaving his campsite up as a favor to Tony. He and Reed were practically glued at the hip since their bowling adventure. Tony had heard that Reed had thrown a gutter ball that leaped the lanes, and the young men playing in the other lane had taken offense. Tony wished he had been there when they yelled at Reed and Victor decided that _these_ peasants deserved to be trampled. 

Ivan had been called to pick them up at the police station after the bowling battle, but he informed their parents first to ask what kind of punishment they expected. Not that Tony had a way of listening in on Ivan's cell phone, of course not, that would be illegal. And to Tony's delight, if, you know, he _had_ been wire-tapping, all four parents were thrilled. Victor's folks thought it was a wonderful 'wild west' American experience, and Reed's parents were overjoyed that he had fought back to defend Victor, instead of trying to talk things out calmly. Tony could understand that. A lifetime of listening to Reed talking calmly would make anyone want to see him break out with actual emotions.

So they'd returned to the school covered in glory, arm in arm, and waving like conquering heroes. Since then, Victor had been much more friendly to Tony because of the role he had in the whole affair, and he waved off the campsite as a gift.

Tony missed Clint. He'd only known him for a short while, but it had been so nice to have someone he could really talk to. So the notes he tied to Tasha's collar were probably a lot longer than they should be, but he tried to make them all cheerful and interesting, and nothing Clint couldn't show other people. He wrote a lot about his plans for the Science Fair. There may have been a little whining about the inadequacy of the tools and materials he had to work with, but he made that sound like a joke. After all, it was only recently he had even a hope of selling his inventions. He'd be more prepared next year. 

He gave Tasha her bribery sausage- he'd found that if he held out food when she first came up to him, she'd forget about jumping on him- and exchanged the latest note on her collar with one Clint had sent. Clint's handwriting wasn't too terrible, but his spelling was hit or miss. The sick guy was helping him learn, and even told him that once the boss came back they'd take him to a doctor to see what could be done about his hearing. Clint wasn't really counting on that, the way Tony wouldn't count on anyone's promises, but at least the man meant well.

"You're getting fat," he told Tasha as he gave her a last pat before turning her loose to return to Clint. "It looks good on you," he hastened to add. "So, you know, Clint is doing good, too? I hope so," he said, but the dog didn't stay to listen. After a quick snuffle to pick up a few stray bits of sausage she was off.

"I hope so," Tony said softly.


	19. Chapter 19

Just to be on the safe side, in case Tasha loses one of the notes and it gets picked up by a busybody, Tony never uses any names in them. He always signs them 'Your Friend'. It makes him feel good to have a friend, even if their only connection is through notes.

 

A few days later Tony was lying in bed, trying to unwind his mind from the possibilities he was mulling over to adapt one of his father's 'Bad Babies'. Tony wasn't supposed to know about them, but they had been in the family computer and were so interesting he'd memorized most of them. None of them were meant as weapons, but they all had flaws that made them dangerous. He wouldn't touch most of them with a ten foot pole, but the Molecular Reduction Device had potential. It just needed to be safely confined and limited. He'd told Clint about it in a note. He called it a Shrink Ray. He had shown Clint the movie 'Despicable Me' on his laptop, so that would make it easy for him to understand.

Clint had been glad he wasn't making a Squid Gun. Thinking of that made Tony smile. The boiler clicked off and in the quiet Tony heard a heavy _THUMP_. He picked up a broom, in case it was a rat. Maybe he could have tamed a rat and made friends with it by feeding it crumbs, but on the other hand, he'd googled rat-transmitted disease, and wasn't keen on having a pet that could kill him with its fleas.

Tony turned on the light and looked around. Stanley's door was shut, and from the snoring, he hadn't been moving boxes around. Nothing looked disturbed. He didn't see any tiny rodent footprints in the dust. The only thing left was to check the small room enclosing the coal chute. Maybe a stray cat had fallen down it. Tony would quite like to have a pet cat, so he was a little hopeful as he opened the door, and waved away the coal dust.

"Oh." There was a large box that certainly hadn't been there before. Tony prodded it with the broom. The box didn't move. Whatever was in it was heavy. He moved closer and saw the edge of a piece of paper taped down to one side. He peeled off the paper and took it back into the better light of the main room. It was handwritten in an old-fashioned handwriting, with loops fat and round and full of curlicues. It read, "These were lying around not doing anyone any good. I thought you should have them. I hope you find them helpful." and it was signed "A Friend of a Friend". On the back, there was a note in Clint's chicken scratch writing. "Its OK! Not stole!"

Tony grinned and went back to open the box. Like he suspected from the note it was full of old tools and small shop machines, but they were _great_ old tools, all carefully wrapped, and in perfect condition.

 

"Hey, Tasha," Tony said the next day. "How are you doing?" Tasha was too busy eating the big chunk of steak that he'd cut off a bone to even flick an ear at him. He tied his reply, with an extra piece of paper containing a thank you note written in his best handwriting, to her collar. He unrolled Clint's letter. "Sik guy likes sekrit notes & had fun SNeek to skool wit me. 4 Sik gy he's strong, cary box hole way. Boss laff & glad sik guy have fun, so its OK, no one want tols & no trubble 4 u to keep!"


	20. Chapter 20

Tony found himself smiling at odd moments of the day, even while doing the most boring stuff, like mowing the lawn. Every day he wrote Clint telling him about the progress on the shrink ray, and every night he got to use his own tools set up in the basement. Stanley cheered him on and helped when there were more than one pair of hands needed.

At the end of a week, the prototype was finished. Tony set it up on a stand with the directional end of the device inserted into a hole he'd drilled in a broken terrarium. He attached a glass lid and checked that it fitted tightly. Then he carefully programmed in the size and temporal limitations so it should, if his calculations were right- and they always were- only shrink objects encased in the terrarium, and revert them back to normal within ten minutes. He put in a whisk broom, a slice of cheese on a ceramic plate, and his old school tie.

Stanley stood behind Tony. He was wearing a heavy overcoat, gardening gauntlets and a pair of scratched up motorcycle goggles. "You're sure there's no radiation? I don't want to risk my virility!"

Tony looked at Stanley, who was at least ninety years old and looked every day of it. "What?"

"I've still got what it takes, boy!" Stanley shuffled further back. "When I go to the Bingo hall, the girls are all over me."

Tony grinned. "It's fine. I promise it won't stop you from yelling 'BINGO'." Tony flipped the switch. The inside of the terrarium lit up with a pretty blue color. When the light faded, toy sized versions of the contents were inside the case.

Stanley opened his overcoat and looked down at his trousers. "Whew. All good here."

Tony rolled his eyes and looked at his watch. Ten minutes later to the second everything reverted to normal. He opened the case. The tie looked and felt the same. The bristles on the whisk broom were still flexible, and the dust bunnies on it were still soft. The cheese still smelled slightly overripe. "All right, next stage of testing is go."

Tony brought over the humane mouse trap. He felt a little bad about it, but if the device was going to be useful for such things as transport of live cattle, it needed to be tested on something living. "I promise, Mickey, if you make it, I'll let you loose in the wooded parcel."

The mouse just lay there and quivered. Tony broke off a small piece of the cheese and pushed it through the bars. The mouse ignored it for a moment, and then moved just far enough to grab the cheese and eat it. Tony and Stanley stared at the mouse. The mouse stared back. Then it sat up and washed its whiskers.

"Ok. Great." Tony picked up the cage and put it into the terrarium. He really should wait to see if there were no ill effects, but the Science Fair was coming up soon. "One small cheese for a mouse, one... No, that's not going to work. Good luck, Mickey."

The mouse and cage shrunk. The mouse didn't seem to have noticed anything, and sat there, placidly twitching its nose.

"Perfect."

Stanley nodded. "Sure looks it." He ruffled Tony's hair. "Time to go to work."

"Yeah, ok. Later, Mickey," Tony said over his shoulder.


	21. Chapter 21

It felt like an eternity by the time Tony had caught up enough on work that he could slip away to return to the basement. He peered into the terrarium. The mouse trap and contents had returned to full size. He picked up the mouse trap and looked at the mouse from all angles. Mickey was walking around, looking bored. 

"Congratulations, Mickey. You've earned your freedom." He cut up the rest of the cheese,really stinky by now, and stuffed it into the cage, and then sat down to write his note to Clint.

_I can now shrink the moon! But don't worry, I hate green cheese so I won't do it. My birthday is this coming Saturday so that makes two reasons to celebrate. Could you get the afternoon off to show me how to make S'mores? I found graham crackers and chocolate bars in the kitchen, but no marshmallows. Can you make S'mores without them? I would bring the Shrink Ray, but the casing is a botch job and it might fall apart. If I had a 3-D printer I could make it look really professional, but I think I can leverage some aluminum pans from the kitchen, and weld them into something pretty good before the science fair. Goodish. My welding is not as good as my math. I can do numbers in my head, but head-welding doesn't work so well. Your Friend, who will soon be 14!_

Tony had to sneak through the hallways with the cage, but he had all the classes memorized, so he only had to duck around corners to hide a few times before he got out of the house and under cover of the trees. He stopped halfway to the campsite to open the cage and put it on the ground. The mouse just sat there. "Hey," Tony said, "look, if you like the cage, you can keep it, but you know, there are cats." Tony sighed. "Fine." He picked up the cage and wedged it in between two trees, and put twigs and branches all around it, leaving a small opening for the mouse. He rummaged in his pocket, and pulled out a bag of dried blueberries, tossing a handful of them around the cage among the leaves hiding it. "Good luck!" He continued on to the campsite.

 

"AHH!" Tony had forgot to bring a snack for Tasha. He only remembered when he was stretched out on the ground with a disappointed Borzoi nose sniffing him all over. "Oh, God, do you want to steal my kidney and eat it? Could you please not do something awful for five minutes?"

Tasha licked his face and then moved off of him and sat down. Tony got up. "Did I say the secret word? I wish I knew what it was." He finger combed twigs out of his hair, and then reached for her collar to exchange notes. "Next time, I will bring you something good. Promise." 

 

Clint's note was about the animals, like they mostly were. _Its funny. Koala chased bossman. Meannist littl fur ball I ever saw. Sik guy said hed fed too good and got an unnatrl spirit. It was jok becuz kola is named Oliver who was starvd orfin in old book hes helping me read. Boss is gud guy but rely need help with animals. Camel spits, parrots now mor cuss words than me and haff of them get out least once a week. Tasha herded a zebra yesteday. That was fun. We need fun. They get all sad sometimes. Boss is just back from Italy. He thot he'd find some buddy there, but no. Was wrong person._

Tony wondered if he could help them find their missing person. He had great google fu. Maybe he'd mention it to Clint later, after the Science Fair.


	22. Chapter 22

Tony had a big chunk of pork rind, with plenty of meat attached, the next day when he went to rendezvous at the campsite. Tasha graciously accepted it without tumbling him to the ground, and let him switch notes before she took off.

Clint said _S'mores must have marsmelos! Its ok. Sik guy didden know about S'mores, so we got lots of marsmelos and we made sum S'mores today. He sayd I'm a good cook. I have lots left for your birtday. I will bring enuff to make for R and V if they com 2._

Tony liked that idea. Maybe they'd even sing Happy Birthday. Not that he wanted them to, but if they did, it would be only polite not to complain about it. He would work extra hard leading up to Saturday, so he'd be all caught up, and Ivan wouldn't miss him for a few hours. He should probably make a stack of wood in the tent for cooking the S'mores, so even if it rained before then it would be dry. He was bending over to pick up a branch when he heard a loud HONK at the same time something bumped into him. 

Tony turned around. "What's a gooo... you're not a goose. You're a flamingo. Huh. You must be one of the birds Clint looks after."

The flamingo blinked at him and flapped its wings, sending a loose feather flying. Tony picked up the feather and admired the bright pink color. "You're lucky it's not cold. I bet they're worried about you." 

The flamingo walked right up to Tony, flapping and honking. "I don't have any flamingo food, sorry."

"Hey! Wait... I've got an idea." Tony backed up into the tent, and the flamingo followed him. He hurried out and zipped the door shut. "Just hold on a minute. TASSSSHA!" Tony wasn't sure the dog would come to her name, but it was worth a try.

"TAASHA! Ow!" Tony looked up at Tasha who had knocked him down _again_. "Very funny. Here." He tucked the feather securely under her collar. "Tell Clint his bird is here. I'd stay to watch it, but I have to get back to work." Tony let the dog go.

The flamingo honked once more, then folded its legs and sat down. Tony hoped that meant it felt safe in the tent and wouldn't try to get out. "Bye, bird."


	23. Chapter 23

Tony weeded under the ground floor library window when Reed and Victor had study hall time. They sat next to an open window so he could talk to them without Ivan blowing a gasket. He told the dollar weed he was pulling, "You're both invited to come to the campsite and have S'mores on Saturday. It's my birthday, and Clint is going to make enough for us."

Reed said, "Isn't it supposed to be cake?" 

"Anyone can have birthday cake," Tony informed him. "Birthday S'mores are special."

"I will attend, if Reed does," Victor said. "It will be a good American experience. At home we celebrate name-days by gifting the honored one with free beer so all may drink to the honorees' health."

"I have got to visit your country someday Victor. After I'm eighteen and can drink beer," Tony added righteously, as if he didn't sneak some of Bruce's beer on occasion.

"Beer is good food," Victor said. "Hops and malt are nourishing! They help children grow strong!" Tony heard the scrape of his chair as Victor stood up and raised his voice. "Why are we not served beer?" 

"Oh, crap," Tony said. He knew better than to try to stop Victor on a roll. He decided to weed in another place.

"BEER, BEER, BEER!" the other students in the library began chanting. 

"No," shouted Victor, "It goes like this! 

_For every wound, a balm._  
_For every sorrow, cheer._  
_For every storm, a calm._  
_For every thirst, a beer_

__

__

And then we DRINK!"

Sometimes Tony actually loved Victor.


	24. Chapter 24

Tony didn't have any party clothes, and even if he did, wearing them would arouse suspicion, but on Saturday he did comb his hair, and chose a shirt that hadn't any visible holes, before he went to the kitchen for chocolate and graham crackers. He'd helped Bruce with his income tax a few days ago and Bruce had been grateful enough since then to turn a blind eye to more than usual pilfering as long as it wasn't something he needed right away.

The woods were nice and cool and quiet. Tony stopped at the mouse trap to leave a broken graham cracker. It was his birthday and Mickey ought to celebrate, too. "Hey, Mickey," he said softly. After a moment he saw whiskers twitching and then a nose and two bright eyes peeked out. Mickey darted out, grabbed a crumb and ran back into hiding.

"OOOH! A MOUTHIE! CAN I PET IT, CAN I?"

Tony whirled around. "Petey! What are you doing here! You know you're not supposed to leave the school by yourself!"

Peter pushed up his chin stubbornly, and then he said, "NOT by mythelf! I follow you!"

"Yes, well, technically that's true," Tony admitted. He sighed. He couldn't send Peter back by himself, and he didn't want to risk going back again and getting caught with the S'more's ingredients. "You can come with me this one time, because it's my birthday. But it's a one time birthday deal, just for today."

Peter nodded rapidly. "HIPPO BIRDY!"

"Thanks, Pete. Ok, this is a special, secret place we're going to. You can't tell anyone about it, ever."

"CROTH my heart and hope to cry!" Peter vowed, solemnly. "Neva tell anyone about this place. Hath ith got more mouthies?"

"I hope not." Tony shifted his package under one arm, and took Peter's hand with his free hand. "It's a special sort of clubhouse just for my very best friends, which is why you can come. My friend Clint is coming to wish me a happy birthday and he's going to make us something nice to eat. Reed and Victor are going to come, too."

"YAY." Peter hung on Tony's hand and tried to swing. "I LIKE TREETH! I COULD THWING like TARTHAN!"

"Uh huh, no. Tarzan's jungle has nice vines. I think I saw poison ivy here. You don't touch anything unless I say it's ok, right?"

Peter nodded again. "I BE GOOD!"

"Yeah. You're a good kid, Petey."


	25. Chapter 25

Tony had to slow down to accommodate Peter's stubby legs, so he wasn't surprised to see the wood already laid for a fire and Clint holding a bundle of sharpened sticks. But he had totally forgot that of course Clint would bring Tasha, the knock down dog.

"PONY!" Peter shrieked at the top of his lungs and ran straight for the dog.

"PETER! No!" Tony dropped his package and chased after Peter who had developed unexpected super speed and in a moment had climbed onto the dog's back and was clinging to her long fur with both hands.

"GIDDYAP!" Peter said and kicked her in the sides.

Tony had a horrible vision passing before his eyes of Peter being flung into the air, and then stomped flat.

Tasha let her tongue hang out and wagged her tail. She didn't even flinch when Peter yelled in her ear.

"Oh, hi, Tony," Clint said. "Who's the kid?" He was totally unconcerned, and kept on sorting sticks.

"Peter is the cause of my death by heart attack." Tony patted his chest for emphasis. Obviously the killer spy dog loved children. Obviously. "Peter," he said sternly. "You promised not to touch anything unless I told you that you could."

"Ponies aren't THINGS," Peter said indignantly. He hugged Tasha around the neck. Tasha grinned and sat down to scratch. Peter slid off her back.

"Tasha isn't a pony," Clint said. "She's a dog. A Borzoi from the royal Russian kennels," he said with a straight face. "Her full name is Princess Natasha Nikolaevna Romanova."

"Oh," Peter said. He patted her. "Theth tho fluffy!"

"Yes, yes," Tony said, taking Peter's hand. "That part's fluffy. The teeth are very sharp, and the paws are very bony, and the tail can take out a man's eye."

"OOOh." Peter was totally enthralled. He made grabby hands in Tasha's direction.

Tony handed him a graham cracker. "Do not get eaten by the dog. I do not want anyone to be eaten on my birthday."

"Kay!" Peter said cheerfully as he broke the cracker in half and fed part to the dog.

 

Reed and Victor showed up a few minutes later. Victor had a six pack of root beer and a grumpy expression. "Here," he said, pushing the soda into Tony's hands. "The shopkeeper was most insolent, and refused to allow the purchase of true beer."

Reed smiled. "Well, at least root beer _says_ beer."

"That is so, that was very clever of you, Reed," Victor said, with a smile.

Reed looked into Victor's eyes. "Thank you, Victor."

Tony coughed. "Guys, say hi to Clint, and to Peter. Little Peter who is too young to witness make-outs."

Peter was ignoring them, happily sharing crackers with Tasha.

"Hello, Clint," Victor said dutifully. 

"What?" Reed said, tearing his gaze away from Victor. "Oh. Hello, Clint. Happy Birthday, Tony. Here." He shoved a clumsily tissue paper wrapped object into Tony's hands, making Tony fumble to not drop the soda. "There wasn't time to shop for something new, but I thought you might like this. I've hardly used it."

Tony unwrapped it. "It's... a sonic screwdriver?" He flicked it and the prongs on the end extended. He pushed a button and it lit up and buzzed. He grinned. "This is amazing." 

"It's a universal remote control for IR devices, too," Reed said.

"Thanks!" Not that Tony had anything he could use it on, but it was very shiny and very cool. "It's the greatest. I love it." He pointed it at Tasha and made it buzz. She sneezed.

"Time to make S'mores," Clint said. "And then we'll sing Happy Birthday!"

"Well... if you really want to," Tony said.

Clint grinned and whacked Tony on the shoulder. "We'll sing it once for every year you missed!"

"We're gonna need a lot more root beer," Tony said. He laughed and gave Clint a hug.

Peter ran to grab Tony's legs. "ME, TOO."

Tony picked up Peter to hug him as well. "Best birthday, ever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Sonic Screwdriver](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJwcAgOJ0uc)


	26. Chapter 26

Several hours later, after a ton of S'mores, including one with a candle stuck in the marshmallow, and numerous renditions of 'Happy Birthday', including one in Victor's native tongue, another in American Sign Language, and one where Peter and Tasha barked, everyone except Clint and Tasha returned to the school. Tony let Victor and Reed go first, so it wouldn't be obvious he'd been breaking the 'no associating' rule. He followed a few minutes later, with Peter perched on his shoulder. Apparently an excess of S'mores and excitement resulted in a few hours of manic running around followed by collapse. 

Peter was hot and marshmallow chocolatey sticky, but Tony had a sonic screwdriver in his pocket and a big smile on his face. What was a little mess between friends? He couldn't very well sneak Peter through any of his usual secret entrances, but with any luck, no one would notice them coming in the front...

"STRONG! Where have you been!" Ivan met him two steps inside the door.

So much for luck. Tony slid Peter down to the floor and was tempted to blame his absence on the kid. Tony wasn't a saint. But really, throwing Peter under the bus wouldn't make any difference. "Sorry, Headmaster." Tony made shooing gestures at Peter behind his back. "I thought I had caught up on work, so I took a walk in the woods. I lost track of time. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't." Ivan held up a pry bar. 

For a moment Tony thought the man had completely lost it and was going to beat him to death. Then he noticed the big crate in the middle of the entrance hall, surrounded by what looked like most of the students, and more than a few of the teachers. Ivan wouldn't want witnesses to murder. 

"Stop wasting my time. Take it, and open the crate."

"Yes, Headmaster." Tony took the pry bar. It was ridiculous that Ivan's power trip meant the job had waited for him. Anyone could open a crate, but you'd get your hands dirty, shock and horror. It was a well-built crate with clearly marked fasteners so it only took a couple of minutes to remove the front of the crate and pull away the cushioning packed inside.

"Oh." Tony might possibly have fallen in love. "It's the Form2."

"What?" Ivan asked impatiently.

"A three-D printing machine. And there's even 10 liters of the special resin." Tony backed away from the crate. He didn't dare touch it. He might get fingerprints on the machine. This was a top of the line machine, his dream machine. $3500. And that didn't include the $149 per liter resin. You could build ANYTHING with it.

"Huh," Ivan said. He turned to Justin, who was hovering ineffectually. "I didn't order it. Did you?"

"No, of course not," Justin replied. "I would never make a large purchase without consulting you. Perhaps it's a gift from an alumnus?" He peered inside the crate. "There's a note on the invoice."

"Well? What does it say?" Ivan asked after Justin stared at the paper for several seconds.

"It just says... 'For the Birthday Boy. Good luck at the Science Fair'."

"Whose birthday is it?" 

Tony resisted the urge to jump up and down and yell 'ME'. Ivan wouldn't let him keep it, would he? And it would hurt more to think it was his for a moment, than to never have it at all.

"MINE!" Loki said, striding forward when no one else claimed it.

"YOU LIE!" Victor shouted and shoved Loki, who shoved back. Loki looked like he was going to bite, and Reed was dithering with his hands up, obviously wanting to help but not knowing what to do.

Peter squealed in his most piercing tones, "TONY! IT'S TONY'TH BIRFDAY! WATH a CANDLE AND WE THANG!"

Ivan looked like he wanted to smack Peter. Tony got in front of him. "It's true. Today is my birthday, Headmaster."

Reed had somehow got Loki in a headlock. His absurdly long arms were good for that. "Yes, it is, Headmaster," Reed confirmed.

Victor beamed at Reed. "Peter is indeed correct, Headmaster Vanhammer. I looked it up to see what saints shared Tony's name day. There were two who seem to be particularly appropriate. St. Ursula Ledóchowska is the patron saint of archers, orphans, and students and St. Maximinus of Trier is invoked as protection against perjury," At that point he sniffed in Loki's direction, "loss at sea and destructive rains."

Tony thought that if there was a saint supposed to look after orphans, a complaint for poor job performance was in order.

"Humph." Ivan looked at the obviously very expensive printer and then at Tony. "So. You seem to have a patron, of the earthly variety." He frowned. "Richards, release Odinson, he is becoming an unattractive shade of blue." He smiled at Tony, one of the creepily false smiles he used to give Tony back when Tony's parents were paying his tuition. "So, you're going to enter the Science Fair, and no doubt bring honor to our school. Why aren't you wearing the school tie and blazer?"

"Um." That was weird. Ivan was going to pretend Tony was always a student? "I outgrew them," he said cautiously.

"Justin, we'll have to give Mr. Strong a new wardrobe, and he'll need a private room to house his equipment. One of the larger suites should do."

"Yes, yes of course, Ivan," Justin said.

Tony felt light-headed. This didn't seem real. He wondered if too many S'mores could make a person hallucinate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.3dhubs.com/best-3d-printer-guide
> 
> According to Marvel, MCU Tony's birthday was May 29, 1970.


	27. Chapter 27

It was still weird the next morning, when Tony woke up in a real bed in a room that didn't smell like rust, damp, and ancient coal dust. He felt along his chest before he opened his eyes. Yes, he was wearing soft, clean pajamas. He'd slept in his underwear for so long it was strange to feel buttons and flannel. The room was quiet, too. He didn't hear Stanley puttering about, or the boiler grumbling and thumping. He opened his eyes, and they agreed with his other senses.

Across the room, the Form2 stood, plugged into an outlet and ready to go. Tony stood up and had to walk across the room to a dresser to pull out clothes. And there was a private bathroom. Oh, God. It had hot water. "This is not a dream," Tony said in the shower, turning to let the hot water pound on his back. "It won't last, but it's real, right now."

It couldn't last. Clint's boss was rich enough to amuse himself by playing Santa Claus, but Santa only came once a year, even to the kids lucky enough to get a visit at all. There would be no more extravagant gifts, and it wouldn't be too long before Ivan put Tony back in the ledger in red ink. He'd be even more angry, because he'd think he'd been tricked. The Form2 would be sold and Tony would be back in the basement.

But... if he worked quickly, he could make a beautiful Molecular Reduction Device and keep it until the Science Fair. Reed wouldn't go back on his word, he'd show it to Fujikawa and surely they would be interested in it. The real world applications were limitless. They'd _have_ to want to hire the inventor. Even if he was too young for a formal contract, they'd want to be sure he didn't go to a competitor.

But... that was presuming he'd have the device. Ivan now knew that Reed was his friend and that Tony had been planning to enter the Science Fair. He was bright- he'd have put Tony's plan together from those two facts. He'd have Reed searched, and he'd add up new charges and claim the MRD. He had enough academic and inventive standing that he could even claim he'd made it. Who would believe Tony over him?

He had to make the new version, now, while he had the chance, but he had to hide it, somewhere Ivan couldn't possibly get his hands on it, and wait as long as it took until he could sell it, even if he had to wait until he was a grown man. He could only think of one place. There were risks with that, too, but he calculated it was his best chance.

Tony was all pruny by the time he finalized his plans. He dressed neatly, and combed his hair as best he could. He was shaggy. Stanley did his best with an electric clipper, but his hands tended to shake.

 

"Headmaster Vanhammer," Tony said at the breakfast table, where he was uncomfortably seated at the head table, the place for all Ivan's fair-haired children- or at least the children whose parents he most wanted to please. "I wonder if I might continue assisting Mr. Lieber until after the Science Fair. It's too late in the term to begin classes, and working on my project won't take up all my time. I've..." Here he ducked his head and hoped that the flush of anger he felt in his cheeks was mistaken for shyness, or embarrassment. "I'm not really used to being around so many people."

"Of course, of course, my boy. Whatever makes you comfortable," Ivan said, genially, like someone who's won the game and can afford to pat the loser on the head. "After all, you've always been a sensitive child, which is why I permitted you separate housing from the other boys. You took the passing of your parents so hard."

The hate that rose up in Tony's throat nearly choked him. "Thank you, Headmaster." He gripped his butter knife so hard he felt the serrations. If he was Clint, he could throw the knife. But he wasn't Clint, and he wasn't going to be manipulated into losing Ivan's sick game.


	28. Chapter 28

Tony had no idea how long it would take Ivan to deduce that the printer was a one-off, so he practically lived on coffee for the next few days, going down to the basement on pretext of helping Stanley, but really to disassemble and bring up the old MRD. He used it to model the shiny external parts for the Molecular Reduction Device Redux. Murder. He'd have to think of a better name. It was always faster recreating something that already existed, but he didn't know how much time he had. Maybe Ivan would figure out his benefactor lived next door, pay a visit in order to try to smarm a donation direct into his own pocket, and learn that 'oh, I don't know that kid from Adam'.

He brought up his new/old tools too, but that was easier. He just piled them in a heap and used the old MRD on them before taking it apart. He was determined to hide them, too. Ivan might be angry enough to search the basement and go after Junkheap, but it was held together with paper clips and duct tape, so he couldn't move it without destroying it, which was better than letting him have it.

He'd gone to the campsite every day to send Clint a note telling him what was going on, but he didn't tell Clint his plan, because if it backfired he didn't want to drag Clint down with him.

 

Early one morning, he finished. It was beautiful, all shining red and gold, with sleek futuristic lines. Even without knowing what it would do, it caught the eye. Fujikawa would certainly look at it, if Tony got the chance to show it to them. He shook out his sore hands and rotated his stiff shoulder muscles before trying it out on his tools. The blue light focussed into a cube outlining the active space, a foot above the floor. That was much more impressive than a terrarium. Tony tossed the tools in, one by one, letting them drop in miniature to the cloth he'd spread below. "Perfect," he whispered to himself, before turning off the machine and gathering the cloth into a hobo bag. He'd also figured a way to keep them reduced indefinitely and expand only when specifically triggered.

Now came the tricky part. Tony had carefully recalibrated the old MRD and incorporated the indefinite reduction process, but patch code didn't always work as expected. He aimed it at MRDR and pressed the button.

The light was much brighter and went further than he wanted. Tony blinked away the afterimage once it was done. "Yikes." He now had a complete mini MRDR, yes, but he also had a desk that was half shrunken, and broken into pieces. "Mmm, oh, well, could be worse." Tony picked up some tools he'd taken from the school shop and used them to disassemble the working parts of the old MRD into chunks that would fit into his homemade electric arc furnace.

He opened a window to let out the heat and smell of molten metal. Tony wanted to dance, but that was for later, for now he had to hold the carbon rods steady as he melted the metal of the MRD to slag. When he was finished, he was drenched in sweat and the muffin pans he'd stolen from the kitchen had made neat little metal muffins. The glass and plastic parts were easily broken with a lump hammer. He'd hoped to keep it a secret for a while, but there would be no hiding the half desk, so he shrugged and left all the debris. He'd burnt his bridge behind him, he just had to keep going, and be prepared for the blow-back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Complete directions for making a homemade electric arc furnace on a budget](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTzKIs19eZE)


	29. Chapter 29

Tony dressed after a long, hot shower. The school tie and blazer felt suffocating, but doing without them wasn't worth the risk of his defiance being openly noted. He'd stayed away from Victor and Reed, and even limited his meetings with Peter to his tutoring sessions. Distancing them from his actions was even more important than Clint. Clint's boss sounded like an all-right guy, but Ivan was so not above taking out his anger on Tony's friends in subtle ways.

Maybe even not so subtle. 

Tony ate breakfast, and mumbled about working outside. It was so hard to play cowed, but it fed Ivan's ego and kept him thinking that Tony was desperate to cling to his return to favor.

And not, you know, planning anything.

 

Tony looked around the campsite. No one had been here since his birthday except him, and while he trusted Reed and Victor not to tell about it, Peter was only a little kid. He would keep his promise not to talk about the campsite directly, but if he blurted out something about Tasha... yeah. Tony could risk hiding the tools and MRDR here for a few days, while Ivan's attention would be all on Tony because of the destroyed desk and vanished project, but he couldn't leave them here for very long. He looked around at the trees. Maybe he could find an abandoned nest or tree hollow to stash them.

If he could climb a tree. He'd never tried. Clint could do it, couldn't he? Maybe?

He was circling a pine tree, trying to decide how it was done, when there was a loud HONK behind him. Tony turned to see the neighbor's flamingo peering at him and 'dancing' in a foot shuffling circle he vaguely recalled was something flamingos did to stir up mud so they could stick in their heads upside down and strain food out through their beaks. He wasn't quite sure how he knew this, but it seemed familiar. No doubt on a sleepless night, google wandering had led him to dancing flamingos. Wouldn't be the strangest thing he'd found on the internet.

"Hey, bird. I still don't have any flamingo food." Tony held out his hand and the flamingo came up to him and blinked at him. "Well, you're stupid, but friendly, I guess. Hey, I have a brilliant idea. Why don't I cut out the middleman?"

The flamingo fluttered a bit when Tony gently scratched under its feathers. "See, I was thinking to have Clint talk to his boss and pave the way for me, but this is probably better. I'll be a good neighbor, returning his pet, and then, after I've done him a favor, I can ask him to store my stuff for me. Clint said he wasn't into tech, and didn't have a company. He's just a rich, eccentric old man who's kind to strays and collects weird animals." Tony had to talk himself into it. He didn't have any reason to distrust Clint's boss, but the reasons for trusting him were pretty slim. Still, he couldn't leave the MRDR in a squirrel's nest for four years.

The flamingo honked again and nudged at Tony with its beak. Tony laughed. "Yeah, ok, you're hungry, Bernard. You don't mind if I call you Bernard, do you? You look like a Bernard." Tony took off his blazer and dropped it on the ground, then he took off his school tie and looped it loosely around the flamingo's neck. "Ready to go?"

Tony took a step. The flamingo flapped, looked at him from one eye, turned its head to look at him from the other eye, and then moved to follow. "Great. You are not too shabby for a bird, Bernard. I am secure enough in my masculinity to tell you that pink is definitely your color."


	30. Chapter 30

"I'm pretty sure I've seen that wild raspberry bush before. Several times." Considering that he'd checked it out thoroughly, hoping for early fruit, he was reasonably sure of his identification. "We're lost, admit it, Bernard. You are definitely no homing pigeon."

Bernard honked and circle danced, so Tony had to scramble to keep the necktie from being tangled. He got it smoothed out, and then sniffed at a familiar odor that definitely wasn't natural to the woods. Someone was smoking pot not too far away. Not that Tony knew what pot smelled like personally, no, of course not. Uh uh.

"Come on, Bernard." Whoever it was would want their privacy as much as Tony did his. "We're not wanted at that party."

"You're not wanted. Period."

Tony sighed as Loki slinked out from behind a tree, stubby brown cigarette held elegantly between his fingers. "Hey, Loki. Look, I didn't see you, and you didn't see me. Square deal?"

Loki ignored Tony's words. As usual. He pointed at Bernard. "What are you doing with that thing?"

"Bernard isn't a thing," Tony said, paraphrasing Peter. "He belongs to the guy with the menagerie. I found him wandering around and I'm taking him home. That's all."

"Sure, that's all. You're going to suck up to him, because he's rich. You think you're something special. You always did." Loki pushed Tony in the chest. "Give it to me. I'll take care of it." He grabbed the tie and yanked on it.

Bernard honked loudly and flapped, fighting the tie.

"Hey, no! Leave him alone!" Tony came back at Loki, even though he knew he didn't stand a chance.

Loki sneered and yanked on the tie again. "It's mine now. I'll do as I like with it." Bernard was getting really distressed, and struggling.

"I'm warning you." Tony raised his hands and made fists, keeping the thumbs outside, because he really didn't want to break his hands. "Let him go, Loki."

"You're a small target, but I bet I can hit you." Loki's eyes were very green, Tony noticed a moment later when he was lying on the ground, with Loki looking down at him. "I won my bet."

Tony scowled and stared up at Loki. And then behind him. He grinned. "You lose."

"What?"

Tasha hit Loki like a freight train, full speed and silent, fur raised in a bristling mane and very, very, white teeth showing. Loki lay there, making little kitten meeps and staring up at her, wide-eyed.

Tony got up and brushed off his trousers, and then took the tie from Loki's lax hand. "This is Bernard's friend. Her name's Tasha. She can herd camels, too. Isn't that interesting? Tasha, take me to Clint. All right?"

Tasha's lip stayed curled, and her eyes were just as green as Loki's. 

"Tasha. You know you shouldn't have between meals snacks," Tony said. He patted her on the back. "Let's go."

Tasha sneezed and then got off Loki.

Loki got up and backed away. When he was nearly out of sight, he started running.

Tony sighed. "Great. He's going to go whining straight to Ivan." Then he grinned. "It was worth it, though. Good dog."

Tasha gave a tail wag, and then sniffed Bernard over. This seemed to calm the flamingo. Then Tasha woofed and turned away. 

"I sure hope you're going home." Tony and Bernard followed Tasha.


	31. Chapter 31

It really shouldn't have surprised Tony that Tasha did, in fact, lead them straight to an open gate set in a high wall. Beyond it he could see various enclosures and fancy cages full of plants and bright flashes of birds, and ponds with bubbling fountains. It was like a mini zoo. Bernard was excited again, but this time Tony thought it was because he recognized he was close to getting dinner. 

Tasha woofed and sat. Tony held onto Bernard's leash, and called out, "Hello? Anyone home? Just returning your flamingo."

"Hey, Tony," Clint's voice came from above.

Tony looked up to see Clint perched on the wall. "Hey, Clint. Could I speak to your boss?"

"Sure thing." Clint did some sort of amazing acrobatic back flip and disappeared inside the wall.

Tony wasn't jealous of Clint, not at all. Tony had muscles. Lots he hadn't even used yet. Tony looked down at Tasha. "Keeping an eye on me so I don't steal the family silver?"

"No, I think she likes you," a man's voice said. Tony blinked as a man emerged from the gate. He was a big guy, and he moved like a tiger, smooth, and powerful. That was about all Tony could tell about him, because he was wearing bulky wool trousers and a thick plush hoodie pulled up over his head. Tony was sweating just looking at him. This must be the sick guy who was always cold.

"How can you tell?" Tony asked.

"She's not trying to protect me from you. Hey, Tasha. Good girl." 

Tasha wagged her tail and went to the man to lick his fingers.

Tony nodded. "I can see that. I don't mean to bother you. I just want to talk to Bernard's owner."

"Bernard?" Another man came through the gate. Tony hadn't seen him because sick guy was really big, right? The new man was older, dignified looking, and wearing a gray suit that shouted 'class' in a way that Ivan could never, in a million years, hope to copy.

"Bernard. The flamingo," Tony explained. 

"Why do you call him that?" the man asked. He sounded really intense and Tony wondered if the guy was so eccentric he'd take insult at someone naming their flamingo.

"I don't know. It's just... he looks like a Bernard."

The sick guy glanced over at Clint who had ghosted up behind him. "You know Clint," he said as if that explained something.

Tony wasn't sure what it explained but he wasn't looking to argue. "Yes, sure. You know, I'm Clint's friend. Oh, hey, I wanted to thank you so much for the tools, and the printer. It's awesome." This wasn't going quite as Tony had pictured it, but at least he hadn't been thrown out, and they were still letting him talk.

"What's your name?" the big guy asked.

"Right, right. We haven't been introduced. I'm Tony Strong, and I live at the school next door."

Big guy sighed, and eccentric rich guy looked disappointed. Tony was even more confused. "Well, see, here," Tony gave Clint the flamingo's leash. "I didn't just come to return your flamingo. I have a favor to ask."

Yeah, that made them tense up.

"It's not going to cost you anything or cause any trouble, really!" He would have said that Clint would vouch for him, but now he was wondering if they'd think he and Clint were trying to scam them. "I just. I made something with the tools you gave me, and I'd like you to keep it for me. It's harmless." Well it was now, because he'd programmed a user code into it. 

"Let's see it," the big guy said. For an invalid guest, he was pretty bossy. He didn't even look at Mr. Rich Eccentric. Tony really should have asked Clint for his name, but somehow it never came up. 

"Sure, sure." Tony emptied his pockets, taking out a bag of dried blueberries, the hanky sized sack holding the miniaturized tools, and the cotton ball wad he'd wrapped around the MRDR. He put MRDR down on the ground well away from all of them, in a spot large enough for it, pulled his sonic screwdriver from his other pocket, pointed it, and pressed the button, while mentally crossing his fingers. It would work. It had to work. The numbers were correct.

He smiled in relief as the MRDR resumed its full size. He flipped the sonic screwdriver in the air, and then pocketed it. "Ta-dah! That's kinda neat, don't you think?"


	32. Chapter 32

Mr. Rich Eccentric's eyes went wide, wide open. Clint stared. Even Tasha sat up and pricked her ears. Tony preened a little. He would have liked to have jazzed up the demo, you know, pretty girls dancing in spangly outfits, dramatic music and fireworks, but sometimes it was best to let the product speak for itself. Also, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a pretty girl. Girls of any kind were in depressingly short supply in boys' only schools. Tony had argued to Stanley that this lack in their education would result in men who didn't understand women. Stanley had given Tony a pitying look and said no man ever understood women.

Tony was quite willing to take up the study, even if it took years. But right now he shouldn't be dreaming of future girls, but instead his own future. "If I can, I'll take it off your hands in a few weeks, to show at the Science Fair, but that doesn't seem likely right now."

"Why not?" the big guy asked. "I thought..."

Tony shrugged. "I thought so, too, but Headmaster Vanhammer..." Tony wasn't sure how he was going to finish that sentence. There didn't seem anything he could say that wouldn't cause trouble. Fortunately Mr. Rich Eccentric had been examining the MRDR and now he interrupted.

"Where did you get the plans for this?" 

"Um. Well..." Tony squirmed uncomfortably, looking around for support that wasn't there. Clint was on his side, but he was also on his boss's side. "There wasn't time before the Fair to come up with something entirely from scratch, so I based it off an abandoned project that no one else has any claim to." Tony straightened his spine. "My father made the prototype, but his wasn't safe. I fixed it. It works now."

"Your father." Mr. Rich Eccentric came forward and gripped Tony's arms tightly. "What is your name, Tony? What is your real name?"

"I..." Tony swallowed hard. "I can't. I promised my father I wouldn't. He's dead, and I can't break my promise."

"Tony. Tony, don't you remember me?"

Tony blinked. "I..."

"Do you remember laughing when I chased Bernard?"

Tony blinked again.

"It was a long time ago. Only a few weeks before your father took you away."

There was something... Tony looked at Bernard and then back at the man. Bernard, running, honking and flapping, pink feathers flying, and this man... with more hair and none of it white, but this man... "It was at night... and you weren't wearing your jacket. You always wore your jacket. You... called him the Devil in Pink. It was... it was funny. Jarvis?"

"Yes, God, yes." Jarvis put his arms around Tony and it was the best hug ever. He sounded like he was crying. "Tony, dear God, I looked. We looked for you everywhere."

"We?" Tony pulled back, out of the hug, and looked up at Jarvis hopefully. "My mother? My father?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clint, tugging at the big man's hoodie, probably wanting a translation, since he couldn't see their faces. He noticed, but he couldn't think about Clint right now. He couldn't think about anything except what Jarvis was saying.

"I'm sorry, Tony, no. They're gone. I mean me, and Captain Rogers." Jarvis indicated the big man, but Tony barely glanced at him. "Your father had settled enough money on me to make me a wealthy man long ago. I stayed with him because he needed someone he could trust."

Tony thought a moment. "He didn't trust you enough to tell you where I was, though, did he?" 

Jarvis sighed. "On the contrary, he was afraid that everyone knew how much he trusted me. He was afraid I'd be taken and forced to tell where you were if I knew. The only one who knew was a senior agent at SHIELD."

"What's SHIELD?"

"SHIELD," the big man said, drawing Tony's attention, "was supposed to be an organization that protected the world." He pushed the hood back and for the first time Tony saw his face. He didn't look sick. He was pale, but his eyes were clear, and very blue, and his jaw was very strong. He didn't look sick at all. "But SHIELD had been infiltrated by the very people it was fighting. Brock Rumlow was the man assigned to make sure you were safe. He didn't have any connection with your family. It probably seemed like a good idea. Your father didn't have anyone else... I should have been there."

Jarvis shook his head. "Captain Rogers has been accepting blame for your misfortune, but that's nonsense. Rumlow disappeared after your parents' accident and evidence turned up connecting him to Hydra. It's possible he had arranged their deaths. It was assumed that he'd killed you, too. I didn't want to believe it, but there was nothing to go on until recently, when Rumlow was captured. He bragged that he'd told the people you were left with that you were a poor orphan and they'd thrown you out into the street. His own people eliminated him before anything else could be got from him. SHIELD didn't have anything more to go on, and they didn't really believe him, so ..." Jarvis sighed. "Captain Rogers came to me and we began looking for you on our own."

"Why?" Tony asked Rogers. "I get why Jarvis would look for me, but why would you? You've been sick. You should be thinking about yourself." And well, maybe that wasn't very diplomatic. Tony didn't mean to call the guy on being sick, for whatever definition of sickness it was. It wasn't as if Tony was the handicapped parking police, and hey, he knew lots of disabilities weren't visible. And 'Captain' ... maybe the poor guy had a bad case of PTSD from military service and hanging out in nowhere with flamingos was helping him heal. And wow, he was rambling to himself.

"It's my fault because your father was so caught up in looking for me that he wasn't looking out for himself. I wasn't there to help him, but at least I could help Jarvis look for you."

"Why was my father looking for you? The only one he..." Tony interrupted himself. "Captain Rogers? Steve Rogers?"

"Yes." Rogers threw his shoulders back, and looked like he was bracing himself for an assault. It should have looked ridiculous, with the hoodie and baggy trousers. But it didn't. Not at all. "Jarvis continued funding the search, and they found me in Antarctica."

Tony grabbed Rogers and hugged him hard. "Dad would be so happy. You're not lost any more."

"Yes." Rogers slowly tightened his arms around Tony. "I'm not lost any more. Huh," he said after a moment, "I'm roasting in this thing."

"Oh, wow, so Reed was right about the power of hugs?" Tony was so not going to tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bernard was mentioned in the very first paragraph and yes, I knew the role he'd play. ;^)
> 
> Childhood amnesia is a common term for the fact that most people can't recall much of their early lives. There are a lot of theories as to the cause, and the age of the earliest memory varies, but in general by puberty it would be hard for you to have a clear mental image of a person you hadn't seen since you were seven. Tony had nothing concrete to attach to the warm feeling he had for this person named Jarvis. I like to think that the flamingo chase scene would have been novel enough to have made a lasting impression.


	33. Chapter 33

"It's not the hug," Rogers said. He smiled and let Tony go. "But that didn't hurt. You have your father's hair." He reached out, but didn't quite touch. "Sorry. I always hated it when people messed up my hair."

Tony grinned. "Dad had the custodian clip his hair?"

"It sure looked like it," Rogers said. 

Jarvis put in, "Mr. Stark had his own style, as I'm sure you will make your own, Tony."

"Yeah. Oh! Jarvis, do you have any pictures? I don't...." Tony reached into his other pocket and took out the aviator's watch his father had sent him for his eleventh birthday. He put it on his wrist for the first time in years. "This is all I have to remember my parents by. I had photos but... when I moved into the basement, they were lost." Tony's fairly sure Ivan just threw them all into the trash.

Jarvis looked appalled. "Of course, master Tony. I will see to it at once."

Tony giggled. "You're not the family butler any more, Jarvis."

"It was my privilege and honor to look after the Starks. Your family was amazing, Tony." Jarvis laid his hand gently on Tony's shoulder. "They would be so proud of you."

Tony blinked rapidly. He was not going to cry. This was a happy day. "Thanks."

Rogers cleared his throat. "Why don't we go in the house and get comfortable?"

"Um," Tony pointed at the MRDR. "I don't want to leave that outside. I should have thought of that before I enlarged it."

"That's no problem." Rogers picked up the MRDR, casually shifted it under one arm, and carried it towards the large building at the far end of the gardens.

"Wow." Tony looked over at Clint. "You thought Captain America was sick?"

Clint shrugged. "He got better?"

Showing Clint 'The Princess Bride' with subtitles had been a good idea, Tony thought.

 

Jarvis went off to make tea, while Tony looked around the room just off the garden. They'd entered through tall French doors and wound up in another world. It smelled faintly of lemon polish and was full of elegant wood furniture, and mirrors set in matching carved frames and there were real oil paintings on the walls, and statues and vases at strategic points around the room on tables that looked designed just to show them off. Tony kept his hands pulled in close, afraid to touch anything.

Clint came up to Tony. "I know. It's scary. But it's ok. Tasha ate a stuffed owl, and no one got mad at her."

Rogers took off his hoodie and pulled out a comb to neaten his already neat hair. He was wearing a blue plaid shirt underneath. Tony was a bit disappointed that it wasn't the Captain America uniform. "It was a really ugly owl," Rogers said. "Jarvis hated it." He grinned. "So, what does the gadget do? I mean, I saw it get bigger, but it must do something more than that."

Tony nodded. "It shrinks things. Anything. Even living things. I shrunk a mouse and it was fine."

"A mouse, huh. Hey, Clint, could you and Tasha bring in Chumley? I'd like to see it shrink a camel."

 

Chumley the miniaturized camel was happy, surrounded by a moat of hay keeping him in the center of one of the elaborately decorated tables that Rogers had appropriated by the simple process of moving a vase full of orchids to the floor.

They all sat around the table on an assortment of chairs, drinking tea, eating fancy sandwiches, and watching the tiny camel munch on hay. Tasha stared, fascinated by it, and didn't twitch a muscle, not even when Clint spoke to her. 

"That's a great watch," Rogers told Tony. 

"My dad was going to teach me to fly. It's an aviator's watch."

Rogers nodded. "Your old man was a heck of a flier. He once flew me over enemy lines against orders. This was before the army decided to let me fight. No one else would give me a chance but he believed in me enough to risk his own life. They were shooting at us, and he was making jokes."

"What happened next?" Tony asked.

"I parachuted out. It was night, and the sky was lit up with explosions, and I remember looking up at the plane, outlined in bursts of fire and..."

A fancy door bell chimed. Tony frowned. He didn't want the story interrupted. He wanted to hear how his father had been a hero and helped Captain America.

"Clint," Jarvis said, "would you mind answering that, and requesting whoever it is to return later?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Jarvis," Clint replied, putting down his sandwich and getting up.

Rogers was describing how he tried to guide the parachute, hoping not to land in a tree, when there were raised voices, getting louder, from the front of the house. 

Jarvis got to his feet, looking annoyed. "For heaven's sake, what is going on?"

"Sorry, Mr. Jarvis," Clint said, half running into the room. "They wouldn't stop." 

Right behind him, and pushing him out of the way, was Ivan, with Justin a step behind him. Justin looked nervous. Ivan looked furious. Instinctively, Tony tensed with his hands flat on the table, prepared to jump up and run. He didn't want to look like a coward in front of Captain America, that was the only reason he hadn't already got up.

"I'm sorry this boy has barged in on you," Ivan said. "I've come to take him back where he belongs."

"Tony has done no barging," Jarvis replied stiffly. It sounded funny to Tony, but he didn't feel like laughing. "And this is precisely where he belongs."

Ivan's eyes went over Tony, and stopped for a long moment looking at his hands. At his watch, Tony realized. He wanted to put his hands behind his back to hide it.

"Oh, so you this is how you get expensive presents, Tony. Well, I guess you're pretty enough."

"What did you just imply, Mister?" Rogers got up and it was beautiful to see the fire in his eyes and the muscles bunching under his plaid shirt.

Ivan spread his hands. "Nothing." He smirked. 

Justin tugged at his sleeve. "Ivan. Ivan," he said in an agonized whisper. "Look. Look!" He pointed at Chumley. 

Ivan's eyes widened. "What is that?"

"That," Jarvis said coldly, "is the result of Tony's invention."

"If he made that while he was living under my roof, it's mine. He was working for me," Ivan said.

Rogers' right cross was gorgeous. Ivan actually flew across the room. Justin squeaked and ran after him. Clint peered at Ivan and nodded, "That's gonna be even better than the black eye he gave Tony."

Tony snickered in relief. "I bet arnica wouldn't even help."

"You hit a little kid?" Rogers strode over to Ivan and picked him up by the front of his shirt, ignoring Justin's weak attempt to get between them. He growled in Ivan's face. "I hate bullies." 

"You touch me again, and I'll make sure none of Strong's friends ever see him again!" Ivan said.

Rogers cocked a fist, and then shook his head. He dropped Ivan. "Some people aren't worth the powder to blow them to hell."

Jarvis said, "In addition to being my heir, and an inventive genius, he inherits the rights to all his father's patents, which have been in limbo, but will now be quite, quite valuable, whether he should choose to sell, license, or use them himself." Jarvis tilted his head slightly. "I very much doubt," Jarvis continued, his voice cool as ice, "that his parent's friends would appreciate them being prevented from associating with Tony _Stark_."

Justin had been becoming increasingly agitated. He turned to Ivan and slapped him across the face. "THIS is ALL your fault! You treat people like dirt! You treat _me_ like dirt! I own half the school, and I try so hard. And YOU'RE SO MEAN!"

"Calm down, Justin," Ivan said. 

"I WILL NOT CALM DOWN!" Justin kicked Ivan in the leg. "WE'RE GOING HOME! AND I'M TELLING MOTHER ABOUT YOU!" Justin grabbed Ivan's arm, turned and headed for the front door, dragging Ivan with him. Clint ran ahead of them.

They heard the front door slam.

"Wow." Tony slumped onto the table. Chumley leaned over the hay moat and tried to nibble on his hair. 

"Their mother?" Rogers said. "Wow." He caught Tony's gaze and they both laughed.

"Did you mean it?" Tony asked, looking at Jarvis. "Am I really your heir?" Tony didn't care about the money. He was so used to being poor that it still seemed unreal, but the idea of being connected to someone. That, that he cared about.

"Ana and I never had any children. With her gone, you are the closest thing I have to family, Tony. Yes, I meant it." Jarvis held his arms open. "Would you like a hug?"

"Yes. Oh, yes." Tony went to Jarvis and hugged him tight. Everything was going to be all right. He was going to have a real home, and a real family. He turned his head and looked at Rogers. "Will you stay with us?"

"Yeah." Rogers smiled. "I want to stay."

Clint had returned to his sandwich and was munching while watching everyone talk. Now he said, "We're a team!" Tasha woofed for emphasis. Either that, or to steal his sandwich.

Tony laughed. "Yes. Yes, we are." Jarvis's arms were warm and safe and loving. Tony was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my heart, this is what happens later:
> 
> Reed and Victor get married and become partners in science, and adopt orphans from Victor's home country, where they rule together in harmony, and Victor takes care of Reed. 
> 
> Peter comes to visit Tony a lot and once Tony's company gets to the point where it can take in interns, Peter is hired and comes to work with his pet Corgi. 
> 
> Stanley retires and comes over to Jarvis's estate and putters around, feeding the animals and telling lots of tall tales to Clint. 
> 
> Clint's doctor visit turned up a long-standing infection in his ears, once that was cleared up, he was fitted with hearing aids. He doesn't use them all the time, but he likes having the option. 
> 
> Justin developed a backbone, and started standing up to Ivan. They both got therapy which they badly needed. 
> 
> Loki was graduated, and there was a big fight with his family because they didn't realize Loki knew he was adopted, and he didn't realize he actually _was_ intended to take over the family business, because Thor had no aptitude for it, or interest in it. Thor was planning to sail around the world in a homemade boat, and then go to work in one of their 'hands on' positions, but along the way he met Jane in a commune in Nebraska and settled down with her, raising goats and making gourmet goat cheese. 
> 
> Tony read up on flamingos and discovered they needed a large flock to be happy, so Jarvis expanded the flamingo pond area and bought somewhere around fifty flamingos. Bernard turned out to be Bernadette, and raised a chick every year. She still likes Tasha, and still dances when she wants treats. Tasha is the world's best flamingo herder, and there is a series of youtube videos comparing her performance with a champion border collie penning sheep. Tasha gets the most votes for elegance.
> 
> Tony and Steve save the world on a regular basis.
> 
> Jarvis still worries about them, and makes them hot chocolate afterward.
> 
> Oh, and Bruce? He married his girlfriend and kept his job at the school, but on special occasions he goes over to Jarvis's estate and cooks for them. Tony had always loved his pot roast.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to read the source of the crossover, here's two links.
> 
>    
> [ A Little Princess ](http://www.gutenberg.org/files/146/146-h/146-h.htm)at Project Gutenberg.
> 
> Also [A Little Princess](https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/A_Little_Princess) at Wikisource. Both are full text versions, and entirely free. Project Gutenberg is just the text in one page. Wikisource has additional author forward, plus illustrations, divided into chapters.


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